


Like A Blessing (like a knee in the chest)

by Pistol



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: I honestly don't even remember this fic, M/M, but I think... werewolves?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:28:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22041586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pistol/pseuds/Pistol
Summary: They get to Cougar roughly an hour after his ears stop ringing.
Relationships: Carlos "Cougar" Alvarez/Jake Jensen
Comments: 17
Kudos: 56





	Like A Blessing (like a knee in the chest)

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one where I'm not sure how much I posted originally. There's like 30k odd scribbles in a second file to this but they made my brain hurt more than trying to remember this story did so I deleted that one and posted this one.

They get to Cougar roughly an hour after his ears stop ringing. 

When they arrive, Tran has a faint pulse and Cougar is bent over him. He's trying his best to keep Tran's insides _inside_; begging him to _stop, stop, please stop making that sound._

Cougar doesn't see them until two large hands replace his over what's left of Tran's stomach. A man in uniform nods to Cougar while Tran's blood continues to stain his clothing.

"I'm Colonel Clay, son, we've got you," he says. 

Another person is trying to move Cougar away from Tran, talking to him in low calming tones. To this day, Cougar isn't sure what else they said to him. What Cougar _does_ remember is kneeling in blood that hadn't yet been completely absorbed into the sand. Holding sticky wet hands up to his chest and trying to stop shaking while watching a man with red hair and a red cross on his arm start to work on Tran. 

Cougar can't be sure, but it felt like his heart gave up for a moment when the red-headed man looks over to Clay and shakes his head. 

"Make him comfortable," Clay orders.

Cougar remembers watching the medic pull out two syrettes and deftly injects Tran. Tran's sounds taper off, and static fills Cougar's head. He barely registers that there is a steadying hand on his back before blacking out under the painfully bright sun.

\----

Cougar wakes up in a too-hot Jeep, propped up in between the red headed man and a silent hulk of a man. He manages to croak out a question and watches, feeling detached from his own body, as the red haired man looks at him with pity. 

Cougar lets him get as far as _I'm so sorry, but,_ before punching him. 

From there it's a blur of being held down, pain, and wordless screams until they get back to base. By then, Cougar's not feeling much of anything, and is no longer being held down, so much as held against the chest of the silent man. He can't bring himself to care.

The red-headed medic stays as far away from Cougar as the vehicle allows.

When the Jeep jerks to a stop, the medic bolts and Clay appears to open the door. He's careful to stand back, giving Cougar space as he finds his legs and does his best to put one foot in front of the other. It takes surprisingly little effort to ignore the buzz of noise and activity all around him as they allow him the dignity of limping in the hospital under his own power.

\----

Cougar doesn't answer when the doctor asks questions. He knows it's going to be an issue, but his voice is gone, and even worse, his words are gone too. Cougar feels the answers to the doctor's questions, burning and thrumming under his skin. But all his answers are all too raw, swimming in his blood like tiny mines. He doesn't have the energy to brave the danger of his answers, much less to transmute them into words.

When the doctor moves to remove his hat during the examination Cougar seriously considers killing the man. Before Cougar can act a heavy hand falls on his shoulder, holding him firmly in place. The doctor doesn't attempt to remove it again.

Clay and the other two stand at Cougar's side and back like guard dogs. From the grip on his shoulder Cougar is unsure as to who exactly they're protecting. Cougar can't bring himself to care, either way. The hand on his shoulder begins to feels less like a restriction and more like safety.

After half an hour of silence, having lights shone in his eyes and blood drawn by a skittish nurse, Clay's hand disappears. Clay moves from his back and pulls the doctor to the side of the room, where they speak softly enough Cougar can't hear what they say. The doctor looks unhappy but holds his tongue as Clay motions to the door. Eventually the doctor shrugs and Clay returns to Cougar's side, waiting for Cougar's eyes to find his.

"Let's get you cleaned up, son."

Cougar wants to tell Clay he's not his son, that Cougar doesn't even know him; but then the doctor hands the driver a stack of clean towels. 

A switch is flipped and Cougar's aware of his body's existence. He can feel his hair - stiff and caked onto his scalp - and the tackiness between his fingers. Cougar shudders when he notices his skin. It's oily, sticky, and crusted all at once in a way that makes him feel dirtier than the times he's had to trudge through actual sewers. 

It takes a surprisingly long time spent staring down at his stained knees to remember he's covered in the remains of the two men and not just sand and dust. For a moment Cougar forgets how to breathe, and when he remembers he isn't sure he should be allowed too. 

Thankfully the driver is in front of him and is holding a tarnished silver trashcan while Cougar purges his stomach. Clay's hands do their best to hold Cougar up when he no longer has the strength.

When there's nothing left and Cougar's dry heaving has stopped he allows them to lead him down the hall. When his legs go weak and Cougar trips over something that doesn't exist, strong hands are there to catch him before his fumble is noticeable to anyone else. 

They stop a few feet from a door marked _Lockers / Shower_.

"Clear it out, Roque," Clay commands. Roque nods, going in while the rest of them stand outside. 

There's yelling from inside and five men quickly exit in various stages of dress and dryness. The driver stays on Cougar's left and Clay to his right. Their posture and expressions are enough to cause the fleeing men to give them a wide berth.

Roque appears at the door moments later with what Cougar imagines is his version of a soothing smile. 

They file inside, Roque locking the door behind them before planting himself in front of it like a sentry. Clay moves into the room, past the lockers and Cougar can hear water turning on in the distance.

The driver gives him a forced smile and gestures to his uniform. "Name's Pooch. What do you say we get you out of that mess?" 

Cougar nods, removing his hat and gingerly placing it on the bench before trying to unbutton his shirt. But Cougar's fingers feel blunted and they fumble over his buttons uselessly before darker fingers appear, easily doing what Cougar's couldn't. 

Cougar opens his mouth twice, wanting to say thank you or maybe to insist that he can do it on his own, but each time he closes his mouth out of fear. 

There's more than a _Thank you_ wanting to escape. There's a knot of something, balled up and on the tip of his tongue, just _waiting_ to be let loose. Accusations, questions, and raw noises are sure to slip out the moment he makes a sound. 

Cougar's lost enough today, he'll keep what pride he can.

Pooch glances up at him and offers another smile with no joy behind it. 

"These little bastards can be difficult, but no sweat, I got you covered." 

His ACU top gets tugged off, and then Pooch pulls Cougar's undershirt over his head while Roque comes over and unties his boots. Pooch supports him with steady hands while Cougar lifts each foot in turn and Roque removes his boots and socks. 

Cougar can smell the the sour stink of sweat mixed in with the coppery blood that hangs heavily around him. Neither of the other men show any visible sign of noticing and Cougar's not sure if that makes it better or worse.

Roque returns to his post once Cougar is barefoot. Pooch hovers for a moment, making sure Cougar still has his legs before reaching down for his fly. It's a clinical action, but for a reason Cougar can't comprehend it tears a angry sound from his throat. 

Pooch jerks his hands away and steps back, hands up in supplication and a look of concern on his face. 

"Hey, man, I didn't mean anything by it. Alvarez, if you want I can get a nurse in here to help..."

It's been years since Cougar's been called Alvarez. It's not funny, it's not anything, but _oh god,_ he can't stop laughing, even though it _hurts_. It's a desperate sound, half laughter and half insanity that bounces off the walls as Cougar loses a little more of his mind.

When the laughter finally dries up Clay is there, squatting close to him, but not touching. Calm eyes watch Cougar, one hand moving slowly up to rest on his shoulder.

"You with me?" Clay asks him.

Cougar makes another helpless sound, and starts laughing again. 

Clay nods, understanding in his eyes. "Sorry about this," he tells Cougar before tightening his grip and shaking him twice, hard enough to jerk Cougar's head back. 

Cougar's laughter stops. Well, it takes a second, but Cougar swallows his laughter down and closes his eyes. The hand falls away.

"You want me to get a nurse?" Pooch asks again, and Cougar shakes his head. "Okay, that's cool. You wanna try and do it yourself?" 

Cougar thinks about that for a second, before nodding his head. He opens his eyes, standing slowly. He reaches down, fumbling with the zipper. He manages to get it halfway down before he's stuck and too frustrated to try anymore. Giving up is surprisingly easy. 

Cougar motions to Pooch, who nods and finishes the action for him quickly. When he's done he grabs Cougar's arm to steady him while Cougar pushes his pants down, leaving only his boxer-briefs as he steps out of his pants. 

Clay presents him with a bottle of liquid soap and a bottle of two-in-one shampoo/conditioner. 

"Some idiot left his locker open," Clay says with a shrug, and a nod towards a locker that looks like it had been pried open. "You need any help?" 

Cougar shakes his head and Clay gives him a steady look. 

"You change your mind, you yell." Clay pauses and sighs, running a hand through his hair with almost tangible frustration. 

Cougar feels a spark of himself return as he raises his eyebrow at Clay. 

"Right, maybe just throw something if you change your mind. I got the hot water started in there and put fresh towels on the left bench. There are clean scrubs, too."

Cougar finds his way to the shower room, setting the bottles on the toiletry rack before stripping off his briefs and tugging his pony tail down with numb fingers. 

For a long time he just stands under the water, letting it wash over his face and body. When the water circling the drain is only a little pink Cougar grabs the liquid soap and pours a generous amount before thoroughly washing every inch of skin he can find. Cougar repeats this three more times before reaching for the shampoo.

He's only started to work it into his hair when he first notices something is off. Pulling his hands away he hears a soft _plop_ and turns to see a blackened and meaty red chunk of _something_ on the floor diverting the flow of water. 

A second chunk falls and Cougar hears a low sound crawling from his throat as his head spins.

When the world stops spinning Clay and Pooch are there, pulling Cougar away from the shower head and siting him on a bench. Pooch pushes Cougar's head down until he's nearly folded in half, then starts rubbing circles into his back while Cougar relearns how to breathe. 

He can hear Clay cursing and Roque sounds upset when he responds.

"I thought I got it all, I didn't think to check the hair." 

Clay curses again, and then he's kneeling next to Cougar, apologizing while Cougar keeps staring at the ground.

It _doesn't_ make it better.

Cougar's not sure how long it takes, but eventually he's breathing regularly, his lungs don't burn, and the world is mostly still. When he tries to stand, Cougar quickly find his legs are too weak. 

Roque wraps a large arm around him and takes Cougar's weight easily. 

"I got you, bro," he rumbles. Cougar just stares up at him and tries to swallow the manic laughter he feels building.

Clay goes over and turns on another shower head before motioning them over. Cougar is mostly carried, but it's really hard to care about something like that at this point. 

Roque places him so his back is to the spray and holds Cougar up with one arm before placing a large hand on his forehead to keep the water from Cougar's eyes. It's an oddly tender action from a man whose demeanor and appearance scream of barely controlled aggression. 

"Calm down." Roque's words come out like a growl.

Cougar swallows hard and nods, blinking when the action spills water into his eyes. 

"'Kay. Clay and Pooch here are gonna wash your hair. You cool?" 

Cougar gives another nod and closes his eyes. After a moment there are hands in Cougar's hair, feeling clumsy and alien. 

Cougar keeps his eyes closed and lets the scent of citrus hit him and wash away the rest of reality.

Hands continue to tug through Cougar's hair, accompanied by the soft sounds of cursing. The fingers snag on tangles and pull at his scalp before leaning Cougar's head back. Water washes over his scalp and the motions begin once more. 

By the second shampooing Cougar opens his eyes to find Roque watching his face carefully as Clay gathers and pours water out of what appears to a urine specimen cup, rinsing Cougar's hair. Their uniforms are completely soaked but no one seems to care.

"Never seen a dude in person that had hair as long as yours." There's no hidden insult, just honest surprise in Pooch's voice. 

Cougar forces himself to hum in acknowledgment while Pooch's face scrunches up in confusion as he tries to ring the water from Cougar's hair. 

"My wife would kill for hair like this. Jolene spends an arm and a leg buying hair." Pooch glances up and points a finger at Clay and Roque. "And neither will ever do anything to imply that that is the case unless you want to find yourselves a new driver." 

Roque snorts and Clay just rolls his eyes. 

"Seriously. She will _kill_ me. I dated her for _two years_ before she admitted it was fake."

Cougar can feel the muscles in his face twitch with the desire to smile. It's not a particularly funny thing, but it's _normal_, not something that fits in with him having his hair washed by strange men while another one protects Cougar's eyes from soap bubbles. And... 

_"¡Estoy desnudo!"_ Cougar sputters, eyes widening as he pushes himself away from Roque's grasp to promptly fall on the floor.

All three men stare at him with their best attempts at blank faces. Roque's hands are up and his eyebrows are slowly rising. Clay is holding the bottle of shampoo/conditioner while his lips twitch. Pooch's chest shakes with silent laughter. 

It's Pooch who cracks first, and when he does a warm laugh fills the room. Cougar feels his cheeks fill with blood.

"So you can speak," Clay drawls. _"Outstanding."_

Cougar glares and pushes himself up into a sitting position and hunches over. 

"Relax, soldier, it's nothing we haven't seen before." 

Pooch stops laughing and offers Cougar a smile before grabbing a towel off the bench, holding it out to him. Cougar quickly wraps it around himself and pushes his hair back from his face.

Roque holds out a hand up, which Cougar accepts after a moment of hesitation.

Roque jerks his head to the shower. "Rinse off and get dressed. We'll wait out there till you're done, Princess." 

With that they file out of the shower room, Pooch wringing his shirt as he walks. 

Cougar sighs and drops the towel, stepping under the water and letting it rinse away the remaining suds before just standing there and letting the heat sink into his skin. He managed to speak without bursting, so Cougar will count that as a win and try his best to ignore the rest for now. Eventually, Cougar knows, there will be a time when he's processed the events of today enough that he will be able to feel embarrassment at what just happened. 

Luckily, today's not that day.

By the time Cougar's dried and dressed the other men have have also changed into scrubs and gathered up their clothes along with his. Clay hands him his hat, which is noticeably cleaner. Cougar raises an eyebrow.

"Pooch washed it up for you. Hope you don't mind." 

Cougar doesn't. And he's a little bit afraid that the effort on Pooch's part might just make him fall apart if he thinks about it too much. So Cougar jams his hat back on and goes for his boots. Clay quickly bats his hands away and hands him two grey hospital issue slippers.

It hits him after he's pulled them on that maybe he's not allowed to have his boots. Maybe he's not going to be released-

"I talked to the doctor," Clay's gruff voice pulls Cougar from his thoughts. "You're coming back with us, so we can keep an eye on you." 

Once more Cougar wants to thank them. Thank them all for so many things that Cougar's worried he'll need to start a list just to keep track of them. 

Roque clears his throat and looks oddly somber. "We have an extra bunk."

"You're welcome to crash in our tent. It's small but it's just us in it, so you wouldn't be crowded. You could chill there with us till you're ready to go back to your old bunk," Pooch offers.

And just like that, Cougar finds himself standing in a tent, wondering if anyone picked up his rifle when they found him. 

Pooch strips the cot that will be Cougar's of its old blanket, stilling when he finds a pack of Twizzlers under it. 

The whole room seems to hold its breath as Pooch sets the candy gently on the tiny folding table. Everyone avoids looking at it.

Pooch eventually snaps out of his trance and puts down the clean blanket Roque stole from the hospital before turning to Cougar.

"You should grab some sleep. I'll wake you for dinner, and bring it here for you." 

Cougar knows he's most likely suffering from fatigue, stress, and possibly shock, but he's not out of it enough to not realize what they're doing. 

They've lost someone, recently enough they hadn't cleaned out his bunk. But they're willing to make that man's death all the more real just so Cougar doesn't have to sleep surrounded by his team's ghosts. 

It may be greedy, but one ghost sounds a lot better than six, so Cougar nods and makes another addition to his mental list of things to say thank you for.

By the time his face hits the scratchy lump the army calls a pillow, he's out.

\----

At some point Cougar's awakened and manages to sit up long enough to mindlessly devour a hot plate of SOS with peas. When he's done someone, maybe Clay, forces him to down two bottles of water before he's being guided back down to his pillow. 

There's an SR-25 leaning against his bunk, but he's too exhausted to see if it's his.

-

\----

Clay's new team is a mine field of things they don't talk about. Open wounds that they refuse to allow time to heal. It wasn't so obvious at first that Cougar wasn't the only fucked up person in their tent, but he can see it now.

He knows it's sick, but Cougar is grateful for it. 

Clay and his men all carry and nurture their pain in a way that puts them all on the shallow end of sane. But because of this, they are willing to not ignore, not try to heal, but _accept_ Cougar's own damage.

\----

Clay is the one to finally ask Cougar about his silence. They're trying to escape the heat in the shade when Clay turn and looks him over critically. 

"Were you always this quiet?" 

Cougar stares at Clay and raises a disbelieving eyebrow. 

If Cougar were a different man he would be tempted to ask Clay if he always drank this much. If Clay always tensed when he heard someone speaking Dari with a native's tongue. But he's not, Cougar's a man that knows the importance of an ally, so he ignores the question and passes the watered-down beer back to Clay. Clay is also a man who understands the value of an ally, so he drinks and passes the bottle back, and doesn't bring it up again.

\----

Pooch spends the first week trying to lure Cougar into conversations with him. When he gives up Pooch doesn't seem put out. 

"You're a quiet guy, the Pooch can respect that."

If Cougar was a different man he'd tell Pooch all the things he respects about him; his loyalty to his wife and team, his genuine respect for life, the kindness he shows in not leaving Cougar alone in his own silence. But he's not, so Cougar smiles and listens attentively to Pooch and stays even when Pooch runs out of words.

\----

When Roque speaks, people listen. If he is speaking it tends to be one of four things: complaints, idle threats towards the team, threats he plans on following through, and shit you need to pay attention to. So when they're tending to their respective weapons and Roque starts talking, Cougar stops messing with his rail and gives Roque his complete focus. 

"Shrinks think you've snapped, and if you haven't snapped already, you will soon. The silence ain't helping, and Clay's gonna run out of favors and threats soon if you don't help him out." Roque looks over at Cougar as if to see if he's paying attention before returning his attention to his knife. 

"Try smiling. Doesn't have to look happy, it can be as mean and nasty as you want, just smile. And hit on some women, even if they aren't your type, take 'em on some dates and break their hearts. It'll throw the shrinks off the sent of crazed sniper and lower Clay's blood pressure." Roque runs an oiled cloth over his blade twice more before holding it up to the light. 

If Cougar were a different man he'd ask Roque if he _is_ crazy, if Roque thinks Cougar's going to snap. 

Cougar's not so sure how sane he is anymore, but he knows Roque wouldn't sugar coat it. But Cougar's not that man, so he gives Roque a smile that's mostly teeth and makes a mental list of the women on base who aren't married or likely to give him crabs. He's relatively sure he can sleep with at least sixty percent of them. 

When Roque smiles back at him, it's equally toothy.

\----

When Cougar corrects Pooch about his name, Pooch just tilts his head and asks him to pass the wrench again. 

"Cougar fits you, man."

He drives Cougar to the hospital for every appointment, and he picks him up afterwards. They play cards when Pooch is off duty and Pooch bitches good naturedly to Cougar about the weather in between talking about his wife and how it shouldn't be impossible to get some fucking tacos. 

"We're fighting a fucking _war_ Cougar, the least they could do is send us good food."

When Pooch gets a care package from his wife, he shares with Cougar like it's the most natural thing in the world.

\----

When Cougar corrects Roque about his name, Roque just glares and throws his hand of cards at him.

"I don't care if your nickname is Princess Bubblegum, you're a goddamn cheat."

Roque is the one who goes with him to gather his gear and his team's gear from their old bunk. He carries in the boxes but allows Cougar to fill them on his own. He doesn't force any conversation, just stares out the doorway and gives Cougar his space without leaving him alone. When they've dropped the boxes off Roque breaks the silence by mentioning Clay got them moved to a new place. 

"It's a empty cargo container, but it's about the same size as the tent, so we'll have room for your scrawny cheatin' ass if you want to stay there." 

Apparently it's closer to the chow hall, but the real treat is that it allegedly has a _mostly_ functional air conditioner some Air Force guys left behind.

\----

When Cougar corrects Clay about his name, Clay slaps him on his shoulder hard enough that Cougar debates glaring at the man.

"About time, I was starting to wonder if those doctors were right about you." 

That day Clay somehow manages to convince Cougar's doctors to declare him fit for full duty. 

The next morning Clay informs Cougar over grey eggs and lukewarm 'sausage' that he feels his unit could benefit from having a sniper with Cougar's experience on the team. Cougar understands that Clay is telling, not asking, so he nods and continues moving his food around on his plate.

"Besides, we dragged your ass out of the fire. It's only fair we're the ones to drag you back into it."

Clays voice has no sympathy and even less malice, so Cougar nods and keeps pushing his eggs around until Clay orders him to eat. 

-

\----

The paperwork goes through at a speed that Cougar was unaware the military was capable of functioning at. His new tags come four days later, along with a noticeable pay raise. It's only then that he realizes he's not sure what it is that he's signed on for. 

That night they they drive into the desert without permission. One or two people look like they want to say something but a look from Clay and they wave them through.

\----

Cougar coaches Pooch on his trigger discipline in silence while Clay and Roque drink warm beer on the hood of the Jeep and mock Pooch. Pooch mocks them right back. Eventually the beer is gone and Pooch calls it quits, so they pack up to head back. 

Halfway there Clay starts talking about what Cougar will be doing. Clay tells him he'll occasionally need to remove any and all identifying features on his uniform when they go out on mission. Clay asks if there's another gun Cougar would prefer to work with. 

"We work in the black. What we do, if we get caught, no one is coming for us and no one will acknowledge that they sent us there in the first place."

The Jeep is quiet after that, in a way that tells Cougar everything and nothing. 

No one has trouble getting to sleep that night but they all look exhausted in the morning.

\----

If anyone else had found Cougar that day he knows he would have been shipped back home to a nice padded room he'd never leave. Instead, it was Clay and his men who found him, And it was Clay and his men who had been willing to protect him when Cougar couldn't protect himself. 

They had been willing to literally and figuratively wash away as many of the stains of that day as they could. With enough bravado and leverage from those same men, Cougar was now considered fit for duty and become a part of their team.

A pretty good one, too, if their first two missions are anything to judge by. Yes, their sanity may be held together by 100-mph duct tape and spit, but that works for them. So what else matters?

Cougar had seen more than his fair share of units before Clay's. He's aware that every unit, especially his new one, comes with its own quirks and personality. That spending your days fighting and dying together causes people to do things that from the outside might seem worthy of the whole team getting their Section 8. 

Cougar's seen men in other units set off over things, little things, things that no one but them could understand. Dates. Songs. Sounds. Smells.

So when Roque attacks a man when he drunkenly asks _What are you lookin' at, you loser?_, Cougar doesn't care that Roque snapped over what was basically nothing. Because it's Roque, that's enough for Cougar to move and cover Roque's back when the drunken man's friends join in. And because it's Roque at his back, Cougar ignores the urge to pull his punches to protect his hands. 

Clay gets them out of the brig about an hour later with a hard jaw and a demand to know what happened. Roque shrugs and doesn't meet Clay's eyes. 

"He called me a loser, Clay."

At this Clay jaw relaxes. "Poor bastard," Clay mutters, and Cougar spends a moment wondering who Clay is referring to.

\----

Cougar understands that there are things you just don't ask. That some dates are observed by ceremonies that are _none of your fucking business _ because you weren't _there_. That some jokes you aren't allowed to make, much less laugh at. That some actions can be allowed, but are closely guarded secrets; because living through something can make you wish you never survived. 

So when Pooch is grazed by a bullet on their first mission and tries to take a sloppy swing at a nurse who looks like he's eighteen, at _best_, when he says _You're lucky it only hit your arm_, Cougar doesn't comment; he just leans in to absorb the blow before it hits the kid. Cougar can take it, and he isn't going to make it cost Pooch his rank, whereas the nurse might. 

When Pooch shows up the next day, mostly drunk, Cougar makes sure he drinks two bottles of water before putting him to bed. 

"Everything's too fucking quiet. Is this being lucky? 'Cause it fucking _blows_, Cougs," Pooch complains from his bunk. 

Cougar says nothing, and moves to sit on the floor by Pooch's bed. He hums every hymn he can remember until Pooch falls asleep.

\----

While Cougar _is_ as curious as his namesakes species, he also learned long ago that showing interest (in any form), can be hazardous to your health. Luckily, Cougar is a patient man when he needs to be.

So when Clay is summoned to see the brass and returns later, silent and practically radiating rage, Cougar doesn't ask. He just gets the moonshine he won off a Ranger last week and two mostly clean glasses. 

When Pooch and Roque show up, their moods noticeably shift from hopeful to resigned when Clay shakes his head. Cougar gets two more glasses and pretends that Clay isn't speaking aloud when he and Roque move Clay to his bunk later that night.

\----

Cougar knows that when your life is in the hands of someone else, social boundaries mean nothing. That a team will take greedily from each other without asking permission. That they'll give without caring if their gifts are wanted. That they'll laugh together about things that make them afraid to close their eyes at night. 

That's just how it works. It's how Cougar's father went to war, and it's how his father's father went to war. 

So when a faceless grunt runs up and hands Clay a letter that makes Clay's whole body tense, Cougar says nothing but mentally prepares for the worst case scenario. When Clay looks over and fucking _grins_ at him before running out of the tent _without_ his M16, Cougar grabs it and slings it over his shoulder next to his rifle and follows. 

When they find Roque, Clay hands him the letter. 

"Told you," Clay says smugly. 

Roque's answer is a smile that would have terrified Cougar if he hadn't spent the last month getting to know the man. While Roque re-reads the letter, Cougar takes the time to hand Clay his M16, which gets Roque laughing and earns Cougar a glare from Clay that's more fond than anything else. 

Clay and Roque end up physically dragging Pooch out from under a Humvee by his legs and forcing the note on him. While Pooch sputters, Cougar waits at their backs and makes sure no ones foolish enough to get too close. When Pooch's sputtering turns to laughter Cougar turns around just in time to steady himself as Pooch throws his arm around Cougar's shoulders and informs him _It's too late to run, buddy, you'll just have to suffer with the rest of us._

Cougar nods for the lack of a better response. Answers will come eventually; for now, his team is happy and Cougar selfishly wants to bask in this for as long as he can.

\----

Pooch is the first to realize Cougar has no idea what the hell is going on. Cougar makes a mental note to buy Pooch some thermal socks on payday.

The whole situation causes quite a fuss in the crowded Jeep. Roque glares, Pooch yells, and Clay handles being dressed down by his subordinates with rolled eyes and muttered apologies to Cougar.

"What the actual _fuck_, Clay. I'm so telling Jolene, so you can kiss your share of Twinkies goodbye."

Clay clears his throat as he meets Cougar's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Heat of the moment, you understand." 

Cougar nods and Pooch scoffs. "You should wring his neck, Cougar. We can make it look like an accident. Roque ca-"

"Right," Clay interrupt Pooch with a pointed look, "well I've never been able to get the full story, but missiles, a kid fresh out of basic, and a stolen computer was involved." Clay's smile is fond, enough so that Cougar looks away out of respect. "Someone I used to work with cut a deal and got the kid out of trouble and into a more specialized form of training." Clay drags a hand through his hair, looking out the passenger window. "Fours years later the kid's been bounced from CO to CO, and running out of places to go; it doesn't help that the brass refuses to unleash him upon the civilian population. The General just happens to remember I owed him a favor." 

Roque cuts in with a smug look, "So, Clay here gets a call from his old buddy, and suddenly we're not so much soldiers as we are baby sitters." 

"It wasn't _that_ bad," Pooch laughs.

"He's the biggest idiot you'll ever meet," Roque says with a shake of his head. "I didn't think he'd last a week."

"His name is Jensen. Jake Jensen." Pooch gives Cougar a shaky smile. "He got lent to another unit awhile back, just for one mission." Pooch's knuckles tighten on the wheel, but he continues. "They were all listed as MIA fifty-one days ago. KIA forty-three days ago."

The atmosphere is thick as three men get lost momentarily in a past Cougar isn't a part of. The Jeep suddenly feels crowded with all the words no one is saying and all the thing Cougar doesn't know. 

Clay is the first to return to reality, and he catches Cougars eyes in the side mirror. "It has been confirmed that one Corporal Jensen was found yesterday by Marines just outside of the Kandahar Province. As soon as he was okay'd to fly he was airlifted to our hospital." Clay smiles, looking like a scared father before he controls his face.

"Just try to get to know him before you try to kill him," Pooch advises as he picks up speed.

\----

The hospital staff is nonplussed when Clay storms in demanding to see his man. One of the nurses Cougar recognizes from his own time here rolls her eyes before making them all show ID and sign in. 

When the last name is signed they're ushered to a room at the end of the hall with a MP sitting outside. 

Inside, machines, wires, and tubes surround and almost overwhelm the unconscious man on the bed. The nurse is speaking to them, but Cougar's pretty sure everyone but him stops really listening after the word _coma_. The nurse leaves shortly after, and no one else seems to notice.

Cougar moves to the foot of the bed, mindful to stay out of the way of the others, and studies Jake Jensen, though blond hair and white skin are the only identifying features Cougar can make out. Jensen's face is swollen and bruised, and Cougar knows from first hand experience that Jensen's eyes won't be able to open for at least another day. His skin, where it isn't covered with bandages or bruises, is an angry blistered red. Both hands are in splints, and both of his feet are wrapped and propped up. His chest rises and falls courtesy of the machines around him.

From the reactions, or more accurately, the lack of reactions from the other men in the room, Cougar is willing to bet that their letter didn't mention _this_.

Clay stares, teeth grinding loudly enough Cougar can hear it from across the bed. Roque is the first to move, ripping the chart from the end of the bed and flipping through it hard enough that several papers rip, while Pooch worries the wedding ring that hangs on the chain around his neck. 

Clay steps forward, one arm outstretched, and touches a rare patch of uninjured skin just above Jensen's elbow.

"Clay," Pooch is speaking softly enough that Cougar has to strain to hear over the beeping and whooshing of the machines, "did you know?"

Clay's jaw twitches, and he shakes his head once before grabbing a chair on the other side of the bed, dragging it forward violently. He sits there, studying Jensen and then propping his elbows on his knees and running both hands through his hair repeatedly. Pooch stares at Roque for a moment before both look at the machines.

Cougar is not a violent man. His job calls for violence. His job is perhaps violence in its coldest form, but it's a _job_, not a _nature_. Cougar's nature is to _protect_, which is perhaps why he's as good at his job as he is. 

It is a rare feeling, one Cougar can count experiencing on one hand, but he can feel the urge to bring pain to the person who allowed his team to walk into a room without warning. 

"Roque," Clay snaps and Roque grunts in response.

"He was held," Roque says before tossing the chart on the foot of the bed and meeting Clay's eyes. "Whoever did this? Knew what he was doing. With a few notable exceptions, it's all very much by the book." 

"Whose?"

Roque shrugs. 

"Best guess."

"Best guess?" Roque pauses, and the look he gives Clay makes the hair on the back of Cougar's neck stand up. "They learned on our side of the fence." 

Pooch jerks out of his trance at this, eyes hard. "One of _our_ guys could have done this to him?"

"Probably someone who defected. Or they learned from someone who did." Roque shrugs. "There are hundreds of ways to beat someone, and even more ways to encourage someone to stop trying to escape. Jensen's injuries say someone saw him semi-regularly for several weeks." Roque's voice is so low it's practically a growl when he motions to the wrappings on Jensen's feet. "But what stands out as our work is what was done to his feet. That's a very _specific_ type of persuasion. It's a method they no longer teach, but it's still commonly used."

\----

Cougar and Roque take the first shift with Jensen. Clay is adamant that Jensen isn't to be left alone despite the fact that no one in the group, Cougar included, shows signs of arguing.

The hours pass filled, with only the sounds of the machines, hospital, and occasional staff members checking on Jensen. The doctors assure them that Jensen is doing surprisingly well, healing faster than expected, and that they're doing all they can. 

Roque ignores them for the most part. Cougar stares back at them until they leave.

Their coffee grows cold untouched in the cups next to them.

"When the order came down to loan him out, Clay fought it." Roque's voice is more weary than anything else, but it's wrapped in steel, daring Cougar to doubt him. 

It isn't necessary. Cougar's only known these men for a short time, but he knows them, knows this is a truth. Cougar hums in assent. 

"Two days into his mission with them and the whole fucking team was listed as MIA." Roque sighs and rubs at his face. "They'd dropped off the fucking map. We geared up and went looking for him. Them." Roque snorts, shaking his head."Him," Roque admits before turning to stare at Cougar. "He was _ours._" 

Cougar nods, he understands this. He has spent an endless nights in the jungle with one hand on his gun and the other checking every few minutes to make sure the people next to him still had a pulse. He has walked into a trap that cost the lives of his entire unit. He has been assimilated into this group of dangerous and deeply protective men, almost by force. 

Cougar knows very well just how a person can come to own another person, and own them in return. Cougar knows what he could do for these men, and he knows that he knows better than to say it out loud. Cougar knows this with the same certainty that he knows Clay wouldn't have stood back and let someone take part of his team without a fight, even _if_ it was only temporary.

"They found human remains burnt to hell along with some of the unit's tags." Roque looks tired and scared. Helpless and full of self incrimination in the face of a twenty-four year old on life support. 

"That was forty-three days ago." Roque scrubs his hands over his face. "We had five days of leave when the news came down. We flew out to tell his sister in person. To _lie_ to her in person." 

Cougar clears his throat and waits till Roque's eyes find him. "I told Tran's wife it was quick. Painless." 

Roque nods. "Yeah." His lips thin before he speaks. "His sister probably already got the call and is planning on how to kill us." 

Cougar wouldn't be surprised if Roque let her.

\----

No one seems to care that Clay and his men have basically removed themselves from duty. Cougar suspects Clay's absence the first day had something to do with this.

Pooch and Cougar trade in their liquor stash and bring a tiny TV with them on the second day. Pooch turns it on, and no one turns it off despite the fact that no one watches it. It drowns out the sounds of the machines enough that they can pretend to ignore them.

Roque brings in a laptop that resembles a brick more than a computer and places it in the first drawer of the bedside table, his fingers lingering on the drawer as he closes it. 

"I'm sure it's not as good as his, but it's all I could get."

Clay gives Roque a tired smile. "I'll be sure to direct him to you when he starts to bitch." 

Roque snorts, moving over to stand next to where Clay sits.

\----

No one talks about how the doctors have been trying and failing to get them to acknowledge Jensen might not wake up. 

The doctor had been in again today, gently explaining that at this point they could only wait and see if he'd wake up. That in a way, the coma was a mixed blessing.

"His wounds are healing much faster than we expected, but between the fever and the pain, it's a miracle he doesn't have to be awake for this."

Clay went stiff and he stared at the man. "This is a miracle?" 

The doctor quickly remembered he had other places to be.

\----

They make the hospital room their home. There is always at least one of them at Jensen's side, even though he doesn't wake. 

Clay takes Cougar aside and tries to tell him no one here would blame him if he took a night off.

"I mean, we'd understand. You know that, right?" Clay asks him. 

Cougar just nods and resumes his place sitting on the dresser that's become his the same way the chair on on the left side of the bed has become Clay's.

No one brings it up again.

\----

Cougar spends his time outside of the hospital sleeping, raiding their makeshift library, or at the range. 

He's kneeling, packing up his rifle when a familiar woman shows up. _Sergeant Rogers_, Cougar finally remembers after a pause. They'd had one brief date and several days of above average sex. Cougar angles his hat up so she can see his face, frowns, and makes no move to stand.

"Oh, please, _chico_," Rogers scoffs, "I'm not here to take you for a spin, _relájate._" She looks down at him, searching him for something. "You're on Clay's team? They're saying that they found Jake." 

Cougar nods once and she smiles before reaching into her range bag and tossing him a bag of Skittles. 

"When he wakes up, those aren't from me, _tu comprendes_?"

\----

Over the next few days, people Cougar knows and many he doesn't stop him to hand him things for Jensen. Mostly candy, a few bottles of Coke, a Tamagotchi, and one Rubix cube. 

All are items that go for a decent amount of money when you're halfway around the world and in the middle of buttfuck nowhere.  
Every night Cougar empties his haul into the bedside table. After a while, the drawer starts getting full enough that Cougar has to move the soda bottles to the tiny dresser. 

When Pooch finally notices, he starts laughing. "Oh my god. You realize this means everyone thinks you're the nicest one out of all of us, right?" 

Cougar glares good naturedly and continues to arrange the candy in the drawer. 

"Seriously," Pooch turns to Roque. "I thought I was supposed to be the nice one! I mean, it should be me they're going too, especially since our boy here isn't exactly a chatty cathy." 

"That was before you tried to kill Dougie Howser, bro," Roque throws out in a bored tone that doesn't match the look in his eyes.

"Dougie was a doctor, not a nurse." 

Roque shrugs. "Still. You've been usurped." Roque leers at Cougar. "Probably doesn't help that Cougar here, is _intimately_ acquainted with most of the ladies on base." 

Pooch leans forward in his chair. The atmosphere in the room is playful, and for a moment it'd be easy to pretend they were sitting at their rickety card table instead of in a hospital. 

"Be honest, man, are the ladies tipping you in candy? 'Cause that's be a _sweeeeet_ deal." 

Even Clay groans at this, but Pooch ignores them and keeps laughing at his own joke.

\----

The nurses and doctors are accustomed to them by now. No one bothers trying to get them to take a break or leave, and outside of updates, nothing is really said when they come in.

When the nurses come in to clean Jensen, they just draw the curtain, and when they need to move him, Clay is the one who assists them.

When one nurse offers to show them how to properly apply the cream to Jensen's peeling skin, it's Pooch that volunteers. Jensen's bruises are rapidly fading, his face is no longer swollen, and his skin is beginning to look human. Pooch of course claims it's all due to his amazing technique.

When Jensen's fingers start twitching, and whimpers start to follow, it's Roque who moves his chair closer and tells Jensen to shut up. It actually works.

It does, however, make the nursing staff glare and cluck at Roque, but they're too = busy watching Roque to notice the way Jensen's body calms and the way Jensen's heart rate slides back down to something more reasonable. The nurses never bother to stick around to hear the softer words Roque tells Jensen after he finally stills and quiets, the complaints and threats that sound more like pleas.

Cougar doesn't have a part in Jensen's care, but that's fine. His job is to watch out for the others so they can watch out for Jensen.

\----

Every now and then someone comes in from the military to check on Jensen's status. They only ever want to know if Jensen's woken up or if he's said anything. Generally these men spend several minutes on the receiving end of Clay's perfected 'polite' tone before leaving . 

One of them is worse than the others. He's an obnoxious man who visits regularly with a silent man following in his wake. Both men do little to hide the disapproval when they see the team camped out in Jensen's room. 

The man is never in uniform, but he reeks of rank. He's the kind of man that has never seen combat and thinks of war as a tool and soldiers as a means to an end. He spends his visits talking down to everyone and making off-handed comments that make the whole team see red before sauntering out the door.

During his fifth visit he goes too far.

"Perhaps the best thing would to be to pull the plug," the man says with hollow remorse. 

Roque starts to stand and is stopped only by Clay's hand firmly locked on his arm. Cougar's stomach hollows out and his hands itch for his rifle. 

"Think of it like putting a sick dog out of its misery." 

No one says anything out loud, but from that point on they _all_ start sleeping in the room; and no more than one person is ever out of the room at the same time.

Clay spends the rest of the day on the phone trying to figure out who the man is. 

"Apparently such questions aren't befitting someone of my rank." Clay growls to the room at large after he gets hung up on for the sixth time. 

Cougar just frowns and gets up to go to find Clay a cup of coffee.

\----

The next time the man shows up, shadow still in tow, he stops to beams at Clay before extending a hand.

"I do believe I've forgotten my manners. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Max. It's a pleasure, I'm sure."

"I'm sure," Clay makes no move to shake his hand. "What do you want with my man?"

Cougar plants himself firmly on Clays left side while Roque and Pooch takes Clay's right. Max seems deeply amused by this.

"Your man? You consider him _yours?_" Max smiles and shakes his head. "Oh, Clay, will you be planning on paying what it costs to keep _your_ vegetable alive?"

"If it's something you can't handle, go ahead and send me the bill," Clay growls, stepping forward. 

Max just chuckles and sweeps out the door with a wink. "I'll be back." 

No one sleeps that night.

\----

Cougar learns a lot about Jake Jensen as he sits by his bed. 

He's learned more in five days than in all the time prior to it. Stories spill out from the others as a way to keep the worst parts of reality at bay. Cougar willingly lends his ear.

Jensen is smart. He's also an idiot. Everyone stresses this fact ad nauseum. Jensen speaks a good chunk of non-romantic languages like a native, but can't do much more than ask for a medic in French or Spanish. He apparently decided his first week on the team that they needed a nickname. He decided on The Losers for some reason. (Cougar and Roque share a look that neither feels the need to comment on.) Jensen wears NSI glasses despite his good vision. People either love him or hate him. Roque claims to hate Jensen, loudly and often, but no one in the room believes him. Pooch suspects that Jensen might actually be physically unable to shut up. He's terrible at poker. Jensen's more likely to grab a laptop than a gun in a fight. Clay points out that Jensen's actually pretty good with a laptop in a fight, but that Jensen will mope afterwords over its destruction. Electronics left laying around are apparently fair game, and tend to disappear only to reappear improved or in ruins. 

Cougar isn't sure what to make of Jensen, but he desperately wants him to wake up so he can get him out of this room and away from Max.

\----

On the seventh day Jensen's fever breaks and he's doing well enough that they remove his breathing tube. 

Pooch smiles the entire day, and Roque looks tempted to join him.

\----

It's Cougar's turn to get food, and when he returns with a bag of sandwiches and water he almost drops them when four pairs of eyes turn to greet him. The foreign eyes track his entrance slowly and they're full of confusion.

"With all due respect, Clay," Jensen's voice is hoarse and he has to wet his lips twice before he continues, "My balls have been so blue I'm worried they may never fully recover. The dude in the hat better be a goddamn hooker, 'cause I swear to the little baby raptor Jesus, if he isn't, I'm gonna have to settle for one of you. And that will make me lose my mind and probably attempt to take over the world. And you are aware, sir, that no one will ever find me until it's too late. And it will all be your fault." 

Cougar surprises himself and everyone else with a short bark of laughter. Pooch, Roque, and Clay look torn between relief and exasperation. 

"He's not your hooker, Jensen." There's more than a hint of disapproval in Clay's voice and he glances quickly up at Cougar, face unreadable, before returning to Jensen. "And while most of that terrifies me on a truly profound level, I do question your ability to get yourself out of bed at the moment."

Jensen frowns. "Are you questioning my abilities? Famous last words." 

Clay snorts. 

"You asked, damn it. You said you'd get whatever I wanted. I want a hooker. _Pronto._"

"I meant more along the lines of would you like more pain killers or a glass of water." 

Jensen scoffs and Clay chuckles at him, ruffling Jensen's hair. There's an awkward pause when both look surprised at Clay's action, but then Jensen closes his eyes and presses up into Clay's hand with a brittle smile. 

"This is really nice. Maybe the best one yet," Jensen says before he bursts into a shaky and unsettling laugh. "This is nice." 

Cougar can hear Pooch's breath catch from across the room as Clay goes still in a way that only trained men are capable of. Roque observes Jensen like he's become something dangerous.

"Jensen," Clay moves his hand slowly down to rest on Jensen's shoulder, "_Jensen._ You know this is real, right?" 

Jensen says nothing, his eyes opening and staying fixed on the wall as he leans into Clay's hand like an attention starved child. 

"Jensen, this is real."

"You've said that before." 

Cougar feels his chest clench, and places the bag of sandwiches on the dresser. He'd be surprised if anyone could stomach food right now.

"It's real." Roque's voice holds finality, like nothing could disprove it without going through him first. Jensen swallows, gaze darting anxiously to Roque. 

"It's real enough that you better hope Cougar here doesn't write you up for sexual harassment." The forced mirth in Roque's voice manages to keep Jensen's attention. "You're not exactly making a great first impression." 

Jensen squirms, his gaze flitting over to Cougar and back to Roque nervously.

"No. 'Cause this... This isn't real. Don't get me wrong, this is nice and all, but I'm gonna wake up there... This is all another-" Jensen shakes his head before smiling, looking firm but resigned. "I'm still there. It's okay though. I mean, I'm not mad anymore. Not at you guys, not at anyone. I was for while, 'cause they don't always remember to feed me, no one will talk to me, and you know, the fact that they're all sick fucking sadists." There's nothing forced in Jensen's tone, only worn out acceptance and that makes Pooch curse under his breath and look away.

"Jensen-"

"I don't understand them. I can understand wanting to hurt someone. I can understand wanting to kill someone. But I don't understand them. When they're bored they drug me up and put giant fucking dogs in there with me." Jensen shrugs, empty eyes watching everything and nothing in the room. "Those dogs were crazy fuckers. I had to kill 'em. I mean, I know they were probably just hungry, but they were going to kill me... And I couldn't let them."

"You did what you had to," Roque says resolutely.

"Eh." Jensen attempts to shrug but only one shoulder moves. "But it's okay now. So you don't have to look at me like that. 'Cause I'm not mad anymore, and I get it. No one's coming." Jensen closes his eyes, sinking back into the bedding. "I'm really tired, Clay, and I don't think I want to fight back anymore." 

_"You're. not. there,"_ Clay grinds out.

"You're a lot like him, you know. I did a good job. Too good of a job. Damn my brilliance." Jensen chuckles softly and his breathing picks up to the point he's almost wheezing. "I know he'd be pissed at me. I know they all would, but I'm not like them. I'm not... I'm not as strong. Never was." Jensen's shaking in between gasps and an alarm from one of the machines starts going off. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just can't..." 

Two nurses rush in, pushing Cougar out of the doorway and pulling Jensen away from Clay's grip despite Clay's protests. They're efficient and fast, turning off the machine's alarm, and forcing a mask over Jensen's face. 

Jensen's eyes remain glued to Clay, while Pooch stands like a shocked statue at the foot of the bed, and Roque keeps repeating _It's real, just breathe moron, it's real, I swear._

Cougar climbs back up onto of the dresser, pulling his legs up and resting his chin on them. Wrapping him arms around himself, he just watches. 

A doctor comes in, and there are more barked orders. Through the chaos Jensen meets Cougar's gaze. He's pale and struggling to breathe with confusion naked in his eyes. One of the nurses injects Jensen's IV with a push and Jensen's breathing starts to calm, but his eyes don't leave Cougar's.

"The brain... can't make new faces..." Jensen murmurs, muffled by the oxygen mask, just before his eyes slide shut and he goes still.

The nurses ask them to leave, but no one listens. When one of the nurses starts demanding, Roque just grabs him by the arm and says _No_.

"Then could you _try_ to keep him calm if he wakes up again?" The nurse snaps back.

\----

At some point, someone turned off the tiny TV, and the sound of the machines are the only noises in the room. Cougar stays curled up on his perch, waiting for whatever is coming. He can feel it building with every twitch in Roque's back, every clench and unclench in Clay's fists, and every overly steady breath that Pooch takes. 

"He knew," Pooch swallows twice. "Jensen knew no one was coming." He looks over at Clay then Roque. "For forty-two goddamn days we didn't look for him."

\----

Max shows up less than an hour after Jensen had woke up. There's an odd tension in him, but Max's smiling like he hit the lottery. 

The threat of violence in the room is palpable. Roque keeps himself between Max and and Jensen. _Give me an excuse,_ his posture screams.

"I heard he got a tad," Max purses his lips in feigned contemplation, "_hysteric._" he stage whispers as he moves to reach for Jensen's chart. Roque moves into his way, arms crossed. 

Max blinks, looking for all intents and purposes unfazed by his actions. He tilts his head up to look into Roque's eyes and _smiles._

"It'd be such a _shame_ if his mind had snapped after such an ordeal, wouldn't it?"

"Get. Out." Clay's voice is glacier cool. 

Max tuts. "That may work on the hospital workers, but it won't on me," his smile is all teeth, but no one is impressed. "No, I think I'll stay right here till I get some answers from your boy."

Clay spends four hours on the phone outside of Jensen's room while Max sits at the foot of Jensen's bed calmly reading an article about kiwi fruits in a National Geographic magazine from 1987. 

Roque and Pooch spend the time alternating glaring at Max and his shadow. Cougar curls himself up on his perch and watches the shadow. He's tall, white, silent, and still in a way that makes Cougar's reptile brain hiss in warning.

After several minutes the man turns and gazes back at Cougar. His eyes are wide and calm, and for a moment Cougar thinks they're spectacularly empty. 

Then the man smiles.

Something rises in his eyes with that smile, and Cougar is unwilling to risk looking away. The shadow's eyes begin fill with a hundred things, each more demented than the last. 

_¡Peligro!_ Cougar's mind cautions and he sits up straighter in response. The man lifts his own head higher. Curiously, Cougar tilts his head and watches as the man echoes his movement. There is amusement in the shadow's eyes now, a terrifying madness disguised as playfulness. 

_See?_ his eyes say, _I'm not so bad, I just want to play, I won't hurt you._

But Cougar is no fool, and this is a man he will never turn his back on. Cougar draws a slow breath and forces his muscles to relax as he stares back.

When Clay's done, he crashes back into the room with a scowl and the shadow and Cougar are the only ones who don't turn to observe him. They watch from the sides of their eyes, but their attention remains fixed on each other. 

Max looks up from his magazine to meet Clay's scowl with a chipper smile.

"Looks like we'll be staying, then." Max gestures vaguely with his gloved hand. "Wade, go wait in the car if you can't behave." 

The shadow, Wade, bares his teeth to Cougar before his eyes lock back down into nothing. Like an obedient dog he leaves the room and doesn't look back. 

Clay raises a brow in question and Cougar just shakes his head.

-

\----

Clay and Max spend half the time staring at each other, and the other half speaking veiled threats in polite tones.

Max smiles, white teeth shining like a politician's. "Stop fighting this, Clay. It's not like you can change anything. I need answers. Your boy has them."

"First of all, not his boy. Those implications are way too creepy to think about. Secondly. What do you want to know?" Jensen's voice startles everyone as he blinks sleepily at the ceiling with a small frown, seemingly unconcerned with the stranger in the room.

Max gravitates to his bedside, passing Roque fluidly, and stares down at Jensen. Jensen meets Max's eyes briefly before going back to the ceiling. 

"Can we get this over with?" He mutters. "My head's killing me."

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Jake," Max assures him.

"Seriously. Get on with it, unless you're just here to piss off Clay." Jensen manages to sound bored with Max's presence. Max's eyes tighten in response and Cougar is tempted to smile.

"Certainly. Wouldn't want to waste your precious time, Jake. Places to go, people to see." Max waves his hand in the air ambiguously. "What can you tell me about your mission?"

Clay stands, but Jensen rolls his head towards him and waves Clay back weakly. "We got halfway to our goal and shit got weird."

"Weird how, Jake?"

"Seriously, the repetitive first name thing is really creeping me out." Jensen's forehead creases, and he lifts a shoulder. "It was just _weird._ I swear our maps and intel were wrong. Nothing was where it was supposed to be and we were all lost. And that, well, that just doesn't happen. Then our radios went dead and I couldn't get or send any signal."

Max hums. "And then?" 

Jensen closes his eyes and swallows. "Felt a pinch in my back. Saw two guys drop in front of me."

"How very peculiar. What happened next?"

"Woke up here. Pain. Lots of it. Freaked out a bit and was drugged back to sleep." 

Max studies Jensen before leaning in closely. "Are you lying to me, Jake?" He asks in a quiet tone. "Because that's quite the tale, you just told me. You understand, of course that it's hard to believe that you completely forgot fifty-one days' worth of time."

Jake's eyes widen and he swallows, "Fifty-one days? I've been gone that long?" 

"Indeed. If you're telling the truth, then maybe it's for the best you don't remember. You were quite the sight when you were found." Max straitens up and gives Jensen a thin smile. He produces a white card from his jacket and places it on Jensen's bedside table. "If you were to remember anything, don't hesitate to call." Max's smile grows wider. "Even if you don't, I'll still be in touch, you can count on that." 

With that, Max is gone as quickly as he arrived and Jensen is left looking tired and washed out against his hospital bed. 

"So. I'm guessing there's no way you're gonna all be willing to wait outside while I have a massive breakdown? Because chances are I'm gonna cry at some point, and while I have no doubt that I could pull off stoic tears of manliness, I'm guessing this is gonna be more a pulling my hair and whimpering thing." Jensen swallows. "And I'm pretty sure the weird itchy underwear I'm in is actually an adult diaper, so I'm really hoping to cling to any shred of dignity I can find."

"You lied to him." Clay's voice is a controlled tone that does nothing to hide the fact that he wants to be yelling. He hands a pair of standard issue glasses to Jensen, who frowns at them before slipping them on his face. 

"Yeah. Well." Jensen leans back in his bed and rubs his face, eyes wary. "If you're looking for an apology you can keep looking." 

"Why?" Clay asks. 

"Because the things I remember are nothing that could be useful to anyone. Except maybe some of the acid dreams moments. Those look like they belong in a David Lynch movie. The rest is just pain," Jensen says in a detached tone, "Being in it. People causing it. People laughing at it. Being in so much pain that it stops hurting, which, strangely is worse." He rolls his head to face Clay, studying him. _"Okay?"_

"Okay." Clay opens his mouth to keep speaking but Jensen cuts him off.

"Don't." Jensen's voice catches, but the warning in it makes Clay stop. "I wasn't kidding. You do this, I'm gonna lose it in a _big way._ The last freak out will be a fucking walk in the park in comparison." Jensen licks his lips again. "So, get me some water, 'cause I feel like my lips are about to crack in two and just ask the questions you need to ask." 

Pooch grabs a bottle of water and moves it so Jensen can take slow sips. 

"Any idea how you got free?" Clay asks when Jensen refuses more water.

Jensen blinks. "I didn't." His eyes narrow, "I thought... I thought they were setting it up to make me think someone was trying to come save me. They did that once before." 

Pooch and Clay look carefully blank while Roque's grip tightens enough on the bed frame that the metal protests. Cougar is surprised to find his own nails dug into the meat of his palms. 

"But, I guess someone actually was trying to get me out." Jensen frowns. "Only to leave me for dead in the desert. So, yeah. No idea what happened there. A for effort, but an F for execution."

"Any idea who?" 

Jensen shakes his head. "No idea, boss man. I was pretty high when it happened." Jensen sighs and glances around the room. His eyebrows rise in disbelief when he notices Cougar. "You're real?" 

Cougar raises one of his own eyebrows in reply. 

"Um. So, sorry?"

Pooch chokes out a quick nervous laugh he instantly smothers, glancing between both of them. 

Clay and Roque are carefully avoiding looking at Cougar but both are clearly tense, attentively waiting for his response. The attention indirectly focused on Cougar confuses him for a moment.

_Por supuesto,_ Cougar allows him self a small smirk and shrugs. "Been called worse." 

The tension drains, and soon everyone shows signs of smiling. Clay's eyes are still cautious, but Cougar just tips his hat back and meets his gaze calmly. 

He has no issue with the preferences of the members of his team. Clay holds his gaze for only a moment before giving a small nod of approval. They both turn back to Jensen.

"I'd get you a card or something, but I'm guessing there are no 'Sorry I thought you were my hallucination hooker' cards. That seems like more an apology that requires expensive flowers anyways." Jensen scratches his head. "So, who are you?"

"Cougar."

"Chatty little fucker, ain't ya?" 

Jensen bats Roque away with weak movements as Roque attempts to cuff Jensen lightly on the shoulder. 

"Behave," Pooch chides. "He's one of us." 

Jensen pales at this, looking searchingly to Clay. "You got a new tech already?" 

"No." Clay frowns. "No, _you're_ our tech." He rolls his eyes at Jensen's obvious relief as he jerks a thumb at Cougar, "Cougar is our sniper." There's a hint of pride in Clay's voice and Cougar can feel himself puff up slightly.

"A sniper?" Jensen rolls the thought around. "I thought snipers were mostly floaters."

"And I thought techs were too. Then your pale ass showed up and wouldn't go away," Roque says dryly. 

Jensen beams at him,. "Best day of your life, right?" 

Roque rolls his eyes. "Try the worst." What should be malice in Roque's voice sounds like affection.

"Don't act like I haven't seen your diary, Roque." Jensen's voice drops an octave. "Dear diary, I got a copy of the first season of Glee today. _Squeeee!_ I also I met my new best friend. His name is Jensen, and I'm going to buy him a friendship necklace shaped like a knife and t-" 

Jensen is cut off by Clay's groan. "Jensen. If you keep going and Roque hits you, no one will stop him. And you're weak enough you just might die from it." 

Roque glowers across the bed. The effect is ruined by the small smile on his face. 

"So." Jensen nods towards the door, "Who was the douche bag in the Miami Vice suit?"

"Max." 

"And he is..?" 

Clay sighs, rubbing at his neck. "That's a good question."

\----

The next time Max shows up Wade isn't with him. It's a first. 

Jensen, under Clay's advisement, tells Max everything he remembers.

Max goes over the story multiple times, asking for details about everything Jensen saw before focusing on his time in captivity. Max leans back against the dresser Cougar normally claims and stares at Jensen as he speaks.

Jensen, to his credit, holds Max's gaze. He is lying propped up on pillows, with Pooch and Cougar flanking the foot of the bed and Clay and Roque on either side of the head. None of them acknowledge Max's presence.

Max stays there, smiling and nodding like they're discussing a football game. Jensen is pale and still throughout the interrogation, but continues answering the questions in increasingly clipped tones. 

Eventually Max deems himself satisfied and leaves with a promise to return, _soon_. When the door closes Jensen reaches up and pulls at Roque's sleeve once, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," he says quietly, hand still clutching to Roque's sleeve.

Roque nods once, and he and Clay carefully get Jensen into a two-hand seat carry and move him to the restroom while Pooch supports his back and Cougar pulls Jensen's IV stand. Somehow all four of them manage to squeeze into the tiny bathroom around Jensen as he purges his stomach over and over until there is nothing left. Roque and Clay holds Jensen's shoulders while Pooch rubs small circles in Jensen's back the same sway they once did for Cougar.

Feeling useless, Cougar grabs Jensen's free hand, threading their fingers together in silent support and squeezing.

\----

On Max's next visit, Wade is still absent. Max focuses on Jensen's memories of his rescue this time. 

"It was loud. Explosion loud. I'm not sure if it was sand or smoke bombs, but I could barely make out anything." 

Max asks about the people responsible for Jensen's rescue. 

"I only saw one person. I think it might have been a woman. She was tiny, but strong." 

Max asks the same questions over and over again, trying to shake a new memory loose, but nothing comes back to Jensen.

Jensen doesn't get sick when Max leaves.

That night they toast to 'Tiny, but strong' with flat root beer. Jensen gushes happily over the soda, but only manages to drink half of his. 

Afterwards they gather around his bed and play scrabble till Jensen passes out.

\----

Max shows up alone again, to find the team, _the Losers_ as Jensen insists on calling them, laughing over a story Pooch is telling at Jensen's expense. The laughter dies quickly when they see Max. 

This time Max focuses his questions on Jensen's captors. What they looked like, who did what to him, any possible clues they might have let slip.

Jensen doesn't get sick when Max leaves, but they all end up in the bathroom again while Jensen stares at the toilet. 

Jensen grabs Cougar's hand of his own accord, this time.

That night they pull their chairs in around his bed and listen to Jensen talk about how terrible it was to be without his laptop. Jensen speaks just a little to loud with a smile that's too perfect to be genuine. No one calls him on it. 

When Clay and Roque head out to catch a shower and a meal Pooch watches Cougar from across the bed. His eyes aren't nice, but they aren't mean, and Cougar feels like he's missing something. He's a patient man so he doesn't ask.

\----

Jensen places a tense call to his sister that is mostly him apologizing and begging to be allowed to talk to his niece. He gets hung up on rather quickly and no one picks up when he calls back. Everyone in the room does their best to focus on the small TV and not on Jensen. 

\----

On Max's next visit he asks about the drugs they gave Jensen. This is the first time Jensen breaks eye contact with him. Max catches it immediately.

"Jake, look at me. Did you like the drugs?" Max purrs while Cougar digs his nails into his own thigh. "Now Jake, you know there's no shame in admitting it, after all you were _tortured_. Any relief, no matter the source, would be a welcome experience."

Jensen glares and stops answering questions and Max doesn't fight it when Clay tells him to leave.

Jensen doesn't get sick when he leaves. 

Jensen doesn't speak for several hours, either.

Pooch and Clay throw a fit when Jensen refuses his pain killers that night. Cougar just crawls up onto the dresser and wraps his arms around his legs. Roque is the one to quiet the others with pointed looks.

"Okay," Roque says quietly, holding Jensen's gaze. "It's cool. You don't have to take any pills if you don't want too."

\----

When Cougar and Clay come back, clean and fed, Pooch is sitting outside Jensen's closed door. Clay sighs and they both slide down on either side of Pooch.

"Pain's bad," Pooch says simply.

Clay nods. "Wanna go grab some chow?" he asks Pooch.

"Naw. I'm good for now." 

No one says anything after that. Through the door Roque's low rumble of words flows steadily in between hisses and groans of pain from Jensen.

_I know, I know. It's gonna be okay, I'm right here._

\----

On Max's sixth visit he asks about the dogs. 

Max asks Jensen why he thought they'd use dogs. _They're sick fucks?_ About the cage they locked him in with them. _Short. Couldn't stand all the way up, but twenty paces wide._ About what kind of dogs they might have been. _No clue. They were giant crazy fuckers._ About how he killed the first two. _Twisted and applied pressure, just like with a person._ Max presses as to why Jensen couldn't kill the third. Jensen just stares at him until Max repeats the question.

"Why couldn't you kill the last one, Jake?"

"I don't _know,_" Jensen finally admits. "Drugs. Torture. Skipped more meals than is considered healthy, even for a model. Take your pick."

Max tuts. "_Dogs,_" he spits the word out like it offends him and leaves. 

Jensen doesn't get sick, but Pooch sits next to him and rubs his back, giving him an update about Jolene that he's well aware Jensen isn't hearing. 

After a while Clay drags Roque with him and disappears to go harass Jensen's doctors until they feel better. When they leave Cougar drops down from the dresser under Pooch's watchful gaze and takes Clay's seat next to Jensen's bed.

When Clay returns Cougar doesn't get up and Clay doesn't ask him to; just pulls up another chair. 

Roque and Pooch go return to their bunk and to catch a nap and a shower while Jensen pretends to sleep.

Somewhere down the hall a door slams and Jensen's eyes snap open. His breathing comes out in ragged pants. 

"It's okay," Clay murmurs, "You want me to check it out?"

Jensen shakes his head and squeezes his eyes closed. "Naw. I'm good."

"No, you're not." 

Cougar knows this tone. He's been on the receiving end of this tone. 

"So?" It's obvious Jensen is trying for snarky, but it comes out a quiet plea. 

"So, I think we need to get you out of the hospital. Get you back on your feet." Clay looks over and catches Cougar's eyes. "What do you think, Cougar?"

"Worked for me," Cougar admits.

Jensen opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling.

"You were tortured by crazy people?" 

Cougar shakes his head. 

"How _did_ you become a Loser, Cougs?" There's a challenge in there, hidden under layers of curiosity and pain. 

Cougar is afraid of many things, but not of this. "I was... _desquiciado."_

Jensen hums in question and looks away from the ceiling, watching Cougar. 

Cougar raises a finger to his ear, spinning it in circles and whistling softly. Jensen smirks and makes an affirmative noise. 

"Clay found me."

"His whole team was killed," Clay says clinically.

"That sucks." Jensen tugs a hand up over the covers and towards Cougar, palm up. Cougar puts his own hand in the larger one and squeezes. 

"Were you scared afterwards?"

_"Sí."_

Jensen closes his eyes again. "I'm not sure if I'm okay."

"I wasn't."

"But they took care of you, right?" 

Cougar nods, and even though Jensen can't see him, Jensen seems to know.

"I don't want to sleep."

"It gets better."

"Really?" 

"Perhaps it needs more time," Cougar shrugs, "we will have to see, yes?" 

Clay watches them both silently, and long after Jensen falls asleep for real. Cougar is almost asleep, still holding Jensen's hand when Clay speaks.

"I feel like I need to say something." 

Cougar glances up sleepily. 

"So I'm just gonna say that my team, you're included in this by the way, is important to me." Clay stares across the bed at Cougar. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Cougar blinks and is about to ask for clarification when Clay rubs his eyes and sighs. 

"Well, that right there tells me a lot about you morons. Well, when you figure it out, let me know."

\----

The next few days are both the most stressful and the most enjoyable days Cougar can remember having in a long time.

Pooch shows up with a pair of round wire glasses, tinted green, which makes Jensen crow in delight. He attempts to melt the SI pair in the bathroom later that night, managing to set off the sprinkler system and piss off the few remaining nurses who didn't already hate them. Clay spends almost three hours chewing out Jensen and Roque, who take turns making faces at Clay when he's looking at the other person.

Cougar is pleasantly surprised to see that Max seems to have quit showing up and that Jensen is willing to share his candy.

\----

Jensen unwraps the Tamagotchi while Pooch and Clay are on duty.

Cougar is not alone in wanting to destroy the yellow monstrosity by the end of the week.

\----

"I forgot for a while, you know?" Pooch confides in Cougar over a meal in the cafeteria. "About laughing. That it was okay too." He exhales with a shaky smile and shreds his Tater Tots before dumping a truly excessive amount of ketchup on them.

"I'm glad you two are getting along," Pooch says in an odd tone. "We were all a bit worried that if h-" he shakes his head. "We were worried he'd be, you know, too much. Or too loud for you. But obviously, he's not." 

\----

When they get back to the room, Clay has his nose buried in a book, pointedly ignoring Roque menacing Jensen with a spray bottle filled with water. The bottle had been a gift from one of the nurses after Jensen ended up on the floor with his IV ripped out due to some 'gentle' horse play. _It works on my cats, and his attention span seems close to theirs,_ the nurse had said with a shrug. Roque had been skeptical, but quickly became attached to the tiny green bottle.

Jensen absolutely lights up when he notices Pooch and Cougar standing in the doorway.

"Pooch! Cougs!" Jensen blocks another burst of mist with a pillow with an exaggerated wince. "You gotta help me. He's clearly snapped! He stole my Tamagotchi!" Jensen whines.

Roque growls, snatches the pillow away and sprays Jensen in the face. Twice. 

"And I'm injured!"

Cougar rolls his eyes and grabs the spray bottle from Roque, then holds his hand out expectantly. After a moment Roque fishes the yellow keychain from his pocket.

"We could destroy it," Roque whispers. "No more beeping."

Cougar ignores him, snatching it from his hand and carrying it to Jensen, who coos over it, flooding the room with its happy beeping.

"My hero!" Jensen praises in between glances at the tiny screen. "That man is clearly unstable, but don't worry. We'll get him the help he needs." 

When Jensen looks up, Cougar finds himself smiling back. 

\----

When they finally allow Jensen to leave the hospital Cougar suspects it's due to the staff's desire to get the Losers out of their hair. The Tamagotchi probably helped.

Everyone has mostly been expecting to hear that Jensen will be shipped back state side, so it's a shock when the doctor says Jensen will be staying put. The look of poorly feigned surprise on Jensen's face makes Cougar think this may all be a result of Jensen's computer time.

The doctor reminds them at least a dozen times that Jensen has been recovering ahead of schedule under their care. The Losers are given a list of restrictions a mile long for Jensen and told he needs to show up to every follow-up until his cast comes off. 

Clay, Pooch, and Cougar nod solemnly and try to ignore Jensen's happy but terribly out of tune song about hospitals and why they suck while Roque yells at Jensen to shut up before he breaks his other leg. 

_Then_ the beeping starts.

The doctor looks at them, judgment nakedly apparent in his eyes as the _squeesqueesquee_ of Roque's spray bottle and the chirps of the yellow toy jumpstarts another peal of laughter from Jensen.

"Just..." The doctor takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "He needs time to heal." 

Jensen's song starts up again and the doctor seems to give up, handing the paperwork to Clay. 

Clay is halfway done signing Jensen out when Pooch realizes there's no place for Jensen to sleep. 

Jensen keeps singing while Roque hunts for a place to refill his water bottle.

\----

Back at the cargo container they call home, the air conditioner still isn't working. No one shows any signs of being bothered by the heat, despite growing used to the air conditioning at the hospital.

They manage to cram a cot that Roque 'liberated' inside the trailer only to realize there's no room for it once it's in. Standing it on its side, Cougar keeps the cot from falling over by standing it on its side, while Pooch and Roque haul the gear out of the center of the room.

"We're gonna have to turn those two beds back into bunk beds unless you wanna lose the table." 

Pooch receives a chilling glare from Roque over the mere suggestion.

"I don't _do_ bunk beds." 

Pooch rolls his eyes, "Fine, I'll take one, and I know Jensen won't have a problem with taking the other." He picks up a leather sheath from the floor, throws it at Roque, and grins. "That means you get the cot." 

"Better than bunk beds," Roque insists.

Pooch claps his hands together once and surveys the room critically. "Okay we'll put the bunk beds against that wall. The cot will go where the old bed was."

"You notice that the only two white boys are leaving all the work to us?" Roque mutters as he picks up a bed.

Pooch cackles, "I'll be sure to tell HR they need to sit through some sensitivity seminars."

\----

When Jensen hobbles out of Clay's Jeep with a giant smile and crutches, strangely it's Clay who looks like he is in physical pain. Roque raises an eyebrow and Clay just shakes his head.

"I left him alone for four minutes," Clay mutters, opening the door so Jensen can get inside.

"You're overreacting. No one got hurt," Jensen chides. "We have an AC! An _AC!_ It doesn't seem to be working, but that's still pretty fucking cool! Clay, who'd you blow to get this?" Jensen hobbles around the tiny room observing everything in it before collapsing on a folding chair at their table.

"He wheeled his ass down to the burn ward." Clay rubs his temples and leans against the wall, eyeing Jensen warily. "Organized a wheel chair race with anyone who could sit up and move in one under their own power." 

"Seriously?"

"It was for morale, Pooch! You think the Army would thank me," Jensen grumbled. "You should have seen it, it was amazing, there were nine partial mummies and me, coasting through the hallways!" 

"I'm not sure we're allowed back in the hospital," Clay says with a furrowed brow.

\----

Cougar ignores the beeping the first four times it wakes him and plans to do the same the fifth time.

Pooch has a different idea about that and attempts to stomp the yellow menace to death. Unfortunately, he didn't count on Jensen throwing himself on the floor in an attempt to save his Tamagotchi.

For his efforts Jensen gets a broken finger, chewed out at least a dozen times by each of them, and a new rule about electronics after lights out.

\----

For the most part, things return to mostly normal after that. 

Well, normal for _them._

Jensen sulks for a whole day when he finds out his personal effects were boxed up and sent to his sister. His calls to her still get no reply and from the looks of the other men, they aren't exactly surprised. 

Without his uniform, Jensen elects to wear his hospital scrubs until his replacements arrive. This leads to various creative and uncreative doctor jokes and Jensen getting slapped twice before Pooch takes charge and forces Jensen into a spare pair of pants and an undershirt.

Everyone but Jensen has to report back on duty, but no new orders come down so it's a lot of nothing. Pooch goes back to the motor pool, Clay and Roque disappear wherever it is they go to pretend to do paper work, and Cougar makes a point to drag Jensen with him to the range. 

Throughout the day at the range people wander over to time to fuss over Jensen, who eats up the attention happily. Jensen is chatting with two Corporals when Rogers comes over to Cougar's bay. He clears his weapon and detaches the scope before scooting over to make room on the bench.

"He seems to be doing well," Rogers says as she sits. 

Cougar glances over to check on Jensen before snorting. 

She smiles. _"Él le gusta llamar la atención."_

Cougar nods, replacing the batteries on his scope with a new set. Next to him, Rogers is still and warm pressed into his side. He hides a smile when her hand moves to rest on his thigh. 

_"Te añoro,"_ she murmurs with a saucy wink, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "_Te deseo."_

Cougar grins wickedly, leaning in, only to be startled by a cry from Jensen followed by a hearty laugh. He leans back on the bench to see Jensen being given a piggy back ride by a woman who is quite possibly taller and buffer than Jensen himself. Cougar smiles, and Jensen catches sight of Cougar and waves to him merrily.

"Check it out Cougs! I'm riding in style now! Westward, Hilde!" The woman harrumphs and rolls her eyes but heads west. 

Cougar chuckles before turning back to Rogers, who is watching him with a quirked smile.

"Ah. I see." Rogers nods and smirks. "Good luck, Cougar. _Otro día._" With that she gets up and leaves, Cougar sitting there confused and frustrated.

\----

Jensen gets his cast off almost a week earlier than expected, much to his doctors surprise. 

Jensen's Tamagotchi's batteries also happen to die that day.

They all celebrate by drinking heavily and pretending it's about the cast. Jensen is delighted to learn Cougar can handle his alcohol and quickly challenges him despite Pooch's objections. 

And because Cougar was a horrible person in his past life, Jensen not only wins, but has no hangover the next day.

\----

A ten pack of batteries manages to find its way to Jensen via Rogers. She ignores Cougar's best glare and ruffles Jensen's hair on her way out.

"Holy shit, Cougs, I can run my little buddy _forever_ off these!"

Cougar grits his teeth and does his best to smile.

\----

Jensen takes to his physical therapy with a gusto that tends to lead to injury.

Every time he tries and fails to call his sister Jensen buries himself in his exercises and Cougar feels the urge to drink. When Roque 'supervises' Jensen's physical therapy with his nose stuck in a book, Cougar gets the urge to drink. When Pooch caves and allows Jensen to do just one more _many_ many times, Cougar gets the urge to drink. When Clay actually believes Jensen when he says he's fine, no need to take a break, Cougar gets the urge to drink. 

The whole team seems to be working together to destroy Cougar's liver. Cougar's more than a little tempted to physically beat them all to death. 

Jensen is _barely_ sleeping as it is from his nightmares. So Jensen definitely doesn't need to be kept awake because of pain that could have been avoided.

Cougar wants to yell, to point out to his team what they're letting Jensen do to himself, but he can't. 

Because then he would have to tell them. 

Because then he would have to show them _what_ it does to Jensen.

It's selfish, but it's something that has become his, and Cougar is unwilling to share that.

In his line of work, very little besides your dog tags belong solely to _you_. In the same way Cougar's rifle is his, the way his hat is his, his moments with Jensen are his.

It's Cougar that catches Jensen gritting his teeth at night, unable to sleep due to pain Jensen refuses to take anything for, or the dreams Jensen can't stop. 

It's Cougar who crawls out of his own bed to lay beside the other man, placing his hat next to Jensen's glasses, and his head on Jensen's shoulder. 

It's Cougar humming soft songs into Jensen's shirt, just loud enough to reach Jensen's ears. It's _his_ hand that Jensen squeezes when the pain, the dreams, or both, are too much. 

These are Cougar's moments, and as his mother is fond of saying, Cougar has never been good at sharing.

\----

If anyone notices that Cougar sneaks into Jensen's bunk at night and back out before the morning, they say nothing.

Rogers, on the other hand, starts to ask Cougar about Jensen's recovery on a daily basis. 

"The ladies ask me where you have gone," Rogers mentions while applying oil on the action of her rifle. She rolls the bolt back and forth, staring at Cougar with feigned innocence. "They say Cougar does not play with the pussycats anymore. But, if you follow the beeping, chances are you will find him." 

There is a gleam in Rogers' eye that says she is laughing at him, but Cougar finds he can't be bothered to ask why. Her company hasn't been as exciting as it used to be, and to ask seems like a waste of his time.

\----

After the seventh time Jensen's Tamagotchi starts chirping. Cougar sighs and pushes up his hat. He glares at Jensen.

"Oh. _Scary,_" Jensen mocks without looking up, his attention fixed on the beeping toy.__

"It's annoying."

"So's your face," Jensen titters quietly, pleased with his pathetic come back.

Cougar rolls his eyes, darting a hand out to snatch the Tamagotchi from Jensen. 

"Hey!"

Cougar ignores Jensen's protest, rolling the toy over in his hand. 

"What's the appeal?"

"Um, you mean besides the magical adventure of friendship and it being the only pet I'm allowed to have over here?"

Jensen lunges for the toy, but Cougar smirks, holding it out of his reach.

"It's not that interesting."

"Well it is to me, so gimmie." 

"Why?" Cougar asks dangling it just out of his reach. Instead of following it, Jensen sighs, leaning back in his chair.

"I like being needed, okay?"

Cougar frowns, slowly lowering his hands. "It's a game. It's not real."

"Oh my god, thank you for telling me," Jensen snaps. "I never would have figured that out on my own." 

"I-"

"Look, I know it's programed to tell me it needs me, but it's still nice. So when it cries, I take care of it. When it's hungry, I feed it. And when I do that, it smiles and dances and tells me it loves me, _because_ it's programed to." Jensen stares down at the cheap table between them, ears turning red. "So can I have my stupid toy back, or do we need to delve deeper into how fucked up I am?"

Cougar wordlessly holds out the Tamagotchi and Jensen quickly snatches it up without meeting his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Cougar says. Because he is. He's sorry he asked. He's even sorrier Jensen told.

"Whatever. You know, it's not all that different from kids. They're both _designed_ to make us want to take care of them," Jensen mutters over the soft beeps as he plays with his toy.

\----

The doctors had said that Jensen would be lucky to manage walking on his own after a several months. But, much like his doctors, Cougar is learning you can't underestimate Jensen.

Jensen is up and walking on his own power only twenty-three days after being found. When he shows his accomplishment to Cougar with a massive grin, Cougar can't remember why he has wanted a drink so badly lately.

\----

Jensen's thirst isn't so easily forgotten. 

Cougar is first to notice Jensen's mood change, but he brushes it off thinking Jensen is in more pain than he's letting on. 

Clay is the first to notice the empty bottles, and then neither of them can allow it to be brushed aside.

Cougar spends a quiet moment examining the bottle in his hands. 

"I've never seen him drink like this. Ever." Clay runs a hand through his hair before hanging his head. 

Cougar has nothing to compare this Jensen to so he remains silent.

"Has he talked to you?" 

Cougar shakes his head. "You?"

"A little. He knows I don't like small spaces either. We..." Clay makes a rolling motion with his hand. "Talked." Clay looks distinctly uncomfortable, rubbing at his neck, "You should maybe... you know. Talk to him. Or listen to him. Whatever." Clay gives him a steady look. "Jensen... he'd listen if you said something."

\----

Cougar spends half the day trying to figure out how to talk to Jensen. He's still drawing a blank when he stumbles upon Jensen leaning against the side of a building with his Tamagotchi in hand. Jensen looks surprisingly sober considering the amount of empty bottles lined up next to him.

"Cougs!" Jensen favors him with a warm smile and tucks his toy away before patting the sand next to him. "Have a seat."

Cougar unslings his rifle and takes the offered seat.

"Drink?"

"No." 

Jensen nods and allows silence to fill the space between them. Cougar leans against the aluminum siding, pulling his legs up against his body and balancing his rifle on his knees. Jensen eyes his new position with disdain.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that sitting like that is uncomfortable?" 

Cougar lifts one shoulder in a shrug. He can practically feel Jensen winding up for a rambling monologue so he cuts him off.

"You're drinking a lot." 

"Maybe?"

"Not maybe." 

Jensen's face twists up into disbelief then incredulity. "Excuse me, but-" 

Cougar shakes his head, cutting him off once more. "You shouldn't do this. You lived." 

Jensen's mouth snaps shut again before he snarls out, "Thank you for pointing that out. Do I owe this brilliant deduction to your own personal experience?" Jensen pales as soon as the words are spoken, sucking in a deep breath as if it could draw his words back. 

Cougar is filled with the desire to lash out. He resists. 

Just _barely._

"I.. Shit. I'm sorry man..." 

"Yes. _Personal experience._" Cougar can hear his own accent growing thicker. "I lived. They died." He pokes a finger into Jensen's chest. "You lived. Now you drink enough to worry us." 

Cougar sighs, dropping his hand and shielding his face from a burst of dry air whipping sand at them. When he licks his lips Jensen's eyes track his tongue with something familiar Cougar tries not to see. Hints of something foreign lurking behind that draw Cougar's attention and makes him drop his hand back to grip his stock.

Cougar feels too old, too tired, and not prepared for what's coming. 

Luckily Jensen pulls his eyes away, his pupils slowly shrinking as he turns to look at the chain link fence and the desert beyond. 

"'M sorry." Jensen says.

Cougar grunts. 

Jensen gives him a hesitant smile. "This is the most I've ever hear you speak, you know that Jiminy?" 

Cougar tilts his hat back and raises a brow in question. 

"You know, the cricket?" 

Cougar huffs a laugh and pulls off his hat, holding it out so Jensen can see. "My hat is much better than his, yes?" 

Jensen stares at him for several moments and Cougar is painfully aware that it _wasn't_ a good joke. But then Jensen's face crumples into a wide grin and he starts laughing like Cougar has just said the funniest thing he'd ever heard. 

Cougar can feel his cheeks burn as he shoves his hat back on his head with a scowl, which only makes Jensen laugh harder.

Jensen returns to watching him, and this time his eyes are light with mirth. Cougar allows himself to notice the press of Jensen's body against his own, the warmth soaking through their clothes.

Cougar's pulse jumps, not by much, but enough his body is already trying to regulate itself. Jensen glances over at him with a lazy smile, and it hits Cougar suddenly that while Jensen reeks of sweat and moonshine, he is not a terrible man to sit so close to. The moment the thought forms, so does a dull panic.

Moving on an instinct to kill the threat and give himself room to breathe, Cougar moves quickly, stealing the half full bottle of beer from Jensen's hand. Cougar empties it onto the ground in front of him.

Jensen stares at the puddle soaking into the sand before looking back up to Cougar in confusion.

"So, I'm gonna give you a pass on this because I was a _major_ asshole earlier, but this," Jensen motions to the puddle before readjusting his glasses, "is _not_ cool." He shakes his head disapprovingly. "If this happens again I'm going to have to punch you in the face and raid your wallet on principle."

Cougar shrugs. “For the best,” he murmurs, trying to ignore the way Jensen's eyes fall to his mouth when he starts to speak. “You drink too much.”

"If you say so, Jiminy." Jensen's voice is rough and low in a way that makes Cougar suppress the urge to shiver. 

“I say so,” Cougar says, and when Jensen smiles at this, Cougar pushes on boldly. "No more drinking."

Jensen's smile falters and he starts to laugh again.

"Yeah. No worries, Coug. Drinking wasn't really working out for me." Jensen's laugh turns bitter, though by the time Cougar notices it it's already gone. "I must be fucking morally bankrupt if I have a crazy sniper filling in for my moral conscience."

"Not crazy," Cougar corrects. "Alive."

Jensen cackles next to him. "Same thing, right?"

\----

Cougar stops climbing into bed with Jensen after that. Instead, he moves to sits on the floor by Jensen's bed when the nightmares get bad. The pain hasn't been a problem for a while now. 

Jensen doesn't bring up the fact that Cougar no longer wakes up next to him, so Cougar doesn't either. 

Clay however keeps a steady eye trained on both of them, and Cougar is reminded of the nuns from school whenever he catches Clay's gaze on him. He feels guilty and exposed in a way he long thought he outgrew.

\----

Clay happens to walk into the room the same moment Jensen steals Cougar's hat and tries it on. Clay says nothing, just leans against the wall and watches with a closed expression. 

Cougar snatches his hat from Jensen's head with enough force that Jensen is too surprised to complain. Cougar feels both their eyes on his back as he grabs his gear and heads outside.

\----

An hour later Cougar smiles and offers to share his bay with a perky MP. 

When she's done, he pretends he is too, and he lets her to drag him behind the munitions shed.

\----

"That was fun, but let's not do that again, okay?" She tells him with an almost maternal pat to the cheek. 

Cougar can't meet her eyes, but he nods. 

"You know, I've been there. If you ever want to talk about it..." she trails off, and the only thing that keeps Cougar from running away in that moment is the fact that he's worried where exactly he would run to.

\----

Jensen makes a point to give him his space when Cougar gets back. He goes so far as to pick up his laptop and head for his bunk before Cougar stops him with a hand on his arm. He has an idea of what to say to Jensen, but it's forgotten as Jensen turns and violently shoves Cougar's hand away before wrapping his own hand around Cougar's neck.

Cougar goes still, watching as Jensen's eyes flip from anger to disgust before settling on horror.

"Holy shit," Jensen breathes, pulling his hand away slowly and stumbling back. "Holy shit, I did _not_ mean to do that," Jensen says in a broken voice. "Cougs, I didn- I don't kno-"

"It's okay," Cougar lies. He ignores the burn in this throat and the instincts that tell him to run as Jensen's eyes waver between frightened and frightening. "I startled you."

"Yeah, but... I... I..." Jensen looks down at the floor, expression pinched.

"It's okay," Cougar repeats. "I'm okay."

Jensen makes a quiet pained noise, closing his eyes and rubbing at his temples.

"We have both overreacted today, yes?" Cougar tries, stepping forward hesitantly. "We'll do better."

Jensen smiles, but it's all wrong. 

"Right. I'll ask before borrowing your hat and you'll stop walking around like a ninja. Easy fix." 

Jensen laughs, but that's wrong too.

\----

Jensen appears to be keeping his promise to Cougar and goes so far as to only drink water at their weekly poker game. Roque keeps eyeing Jensen's drink of choice but says nothing.

Cougar is three hundred dollars up and Jensen is out of the game when he starts rambling to them about Star Wars. Jensen's speech is pressured, pouring from him like Jensen is afraid of what would happen if he stopped. 

The whole table quickly shifts their focus to give Jensen their undivided attention, eyeing Jensen like he's an unstable bomb sitting next to them that could go off at any moment.

"Jensen," Clay says with a practiced calm normally reserved for people standing at the edge of a tall building. "You okay?" 

Jensen nods, spinning his Tamagotchi by its keychain, "Yeah, sure." He looks up, his forced happiness not masking the raw look in his eyes. "Just, you know, Star Wars, man. That's some deep shit. I mean, Luke's dad was a good guy. Then, _BAM_, he isn't. Going dark-side, is that a gradual thing, you think? Do you think his Jedi buddies saw it happening and did nothing? 'Cause I understand wanting to protect your friends, but what line do you have to cross to go from friend to the person who really needs a lightsaber between the eyes for the good of the galaxy?" Jensen stops and sucks in a breath as he stares at his hand. "It'd suck to be the Jedi who ignored it, only to watch your buddy skull fuck the galaxy a few years later."

Clay lays down his cards, and Pooch and Cougar follow suit. Roque's eyes narrow.

"Jensen, what are you saying?"

"Me? Nothing," Jensen titters nervously. "Don't worry about it Roque, it's nothing." 

Everyone continues to study Jensen while he does his best to twitch out of his skin. 

"Seriously. Just, kinda OD'd on The Old Republic and Red Bull. Turns out it's not a good mixture. I just have too much energy right now Boss, I think I'm gonna take a run." 

With that Jensen is up and out the door before anyone can say anything.

Clay stares at the door a long time. 

Pooch hesitantly clears his throat, "Is he..?"

"No," Clay says firmly. "I want you all to keep an eye on him."

\----

When Cougar returns to their room the next day, Jensen has a black eye and is almost _growling_ at Clay, who looks ready to blacken Jensen's other eye. Pooch and Roque are doing their best to stay between them.

Jensen's head jerks in Cougar's direction the moment he walks in the room. Shock and anger pass over Jensen's face before he's pushing past everyone in the room to leave. Cougar is debating following when Pooch rests his hand on his shoulder, shaking his head.

"Let him go for now." 

"What happened?" 

"He lost his damn mind, _that's_ what happened," Roque spits.

"Some asshole shoved past us. Jensen went crazy on his ass." Pooch rubs a hand over his scalp. "Took me and Roque to get him off the guy."

Cougar isn't sure what to think of this.

"Think it was some traumatic flashback shit?" Roque asks.

"I wouldn't bet on it. He's been on edge lately." Clay fixes each man with a steady look, "If anyone in any official capacity asks any of you, then, yes, yes it looked like a flashback. PTSD is better than just plain crazy in their books."

\----

When Pooch goes to call Jolene, the phone in the commons room has been smashed to pieces. A man fitting Jensen's description is rumored to be responsible.

Clay nods calmly when Pooch tells him, and Roque continues to pick at his nails with his knife.

"We need to get this shit straightened out, Clay," Roque says, breaking the silence. "Pretty soon it's gonna be a name used, not just another sighting of a blond guy with a temper."

\----

Morning comes and there's still no sign of Jensen. By the time they follow the chirps in their room to Jensen's Tamagotchi - which is never, _never_ left behind no matter what Clay or anyone else says - Roque is getting twitchy and Clay's eyes are starting to look like they do on missions. While Pooch silences the toy Clay divides the base into sections, each Loser getting a piece to search. 

It doesn't take long, it's not a large base, and there are not a lot of places to hide. 

The reality that Jensen is no where to be found starts to sink in about 0800.

\----

They start search the area surrounding the base around 0900, Roque hanging back to field questions and to be there in case Jensen shows up. 

Around 1400 Cougar's radio comes to life.

_"He's home."_

_"And?"_ Clay's voice snaps back.

_"And he's home, Colonel." _

\----

When Cougar arrives, Pooch and Clay are right on his heels. In their quarters Jensen is sitting stiffly on Roque's bunk with his back to the wall and his eyes trained on them the moment the door opens. Jensen's glasses are missing.

Roque is standing with his back to them, braced like he's waiting to be attacked.

"Come on in," Roque calls without looking over his shoulder. 

The atmosphere is tense enough that Pooch's mouth snaps shut and he swallows whatever he was ready to say. 

"Have a seat." Roque's tone makes it clear it's not a request. Clay looks like he's about to pull rank but then he notices the odd cant of Jensen's head as Jensen watches them.

"Roque?" 

"Take a seat, Clay," Roque replies without looking away from Jensen. "_Please._"

They all drop their gear at the table and move to sit on Cougar's cot, Jensen's eyes following them.

"Jensen," Roque prompts, "everyone's here now." 

Jensen's eyes swim around the room before landing on Roque. He nods, mutely. 

"Think we can have that talk now?" 

Jensen looks terrified for a moment, breath hitching and hands digging into the sheets before Roque slowly moves forward. 

"Hey," Roque crouches down, still tense despite his gentle voice, "it's okay. It's okay." 

Jensen swallows, nodding. 

"I'm here, yeah?"

"Yeah," Jensen croaks.

"And?" Roque prompts. 

Jensen's eyes fly back to the others, eyes wide and scared. 

Roque's voice is more insistent this time. "Don't look at them, look at me. I'm here. I told you I have your back, do you believe me?"

"Yeah," Jensen admits in a strangled voice.

"Always will." 

Jensen nods again. 

"You want me to tell them?"

Clay's patience snaps. "Tell me what?" 

Jensen visibly bristles and a growl tears from his throat. Everyone in the room stills at Jensen's instant transformation from scared to bursting with aggression. Cougar sees Clay's hand automatically stray to his side arm before purposefully stopping.

Roque fixes Clay with a sour look before reaching out slowly to touch Jensen's arm. "Hey! _Hey!_ You in there?"

Jensen's growl tapers off, leaving a confused looking Jensen in its wake. He shakes his head like he's coming out of a fog before nodding an affirmative. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here." 

"Good." Roque turns to Clay, looking away from Jensen as he jabs a finger towards Clay. "You'll get your answers, but you need to keep it together and let me handle this."

Clay studies Roque before nodding. "Fine."

Roque turns to Cougar and Pooch. "You guys, too." 

Both nod, unsure what to say.

"Right." Roque swallows and turns back to Jensen, who is curling into himself as far as his body allows. "So we're gonna need you guys to keep an open mind." 

Jensen grimaces. 

"And I'm gonna need you guys to to keep calm. Jensen here isn't doing so well with loud noises or sudden movement."

"Okay. You have our attention," Clay says firmly.

Jensen glances nervously from Clay to Roque. 

"I got your back, Jensen," Roque repeats. 

Jensen nods, eyes drifting to a point somewhere to the left of Clay's shoulder. "So." He licks his lips. "So, I think I may have killed someone."

Cougar can feel his blood go cold. A strange feeling of calm washes over him and he hears himself speak before he processes his thoughts. 

"_¿El cadáver?_ Is it taken care of?" 

All the eyes in the room slide to Cougar, but he keeps his eyes fixed on Jensen, who can't or won't meet Cougar's eyes.

"Well?" Clay finally asks.

"That's the thing. I don't know. I can't really remember."

Cougar frowns. _"¿Estas borracho?"_

"No." Hurt flashes across Jensen's face. "I wasn't drinking at all last night or after." He pauses and chews on his lip. "Besides, even if I was, it wouldn't have affected me. Not for more than a few minutes." Jensen scratches his head sheepishly. "That's kinda part of the second thing I need to tell you guys."

Roque sits down next to Jensen, back still tense. He and Jensen share a long look before Roque nods and pats his leg.

"When he came back, his tail was literally between his legs," Roque says with a small smile and Jensen groans, thumping his head against the wall.

"You tacky _bitch_," Jensen growls out at Roque. "Really? At a time like this you're making jokes?"

Clay's foot starts jumping and Cougar can almost hear his nerves fraying at all the answers they aren't getting. Next to him, Pooch seems to be stuck somewhere between shock and anger.

Roque shrugs. "It had to be said, bro." He clears his throat and looks to Clay. "Look, I know this sounds crazy, but a big fucking wolf looking thing was scratching at the walls earlier. I was gonna shoot the fucker, but by the time I unholstered the wolf was fucking... _melting_, or some shit, and Jensen was there. He was stark naked and covered in blood." 

Clay's face has gone frighteningly blank. Cougar isn't sure he wants to know what his looks like.

"I'm _serious_, Clay. I saw it with my own two eyes."

"My best guess so far as to what's going on is straight from the movies," Jensen adds. "I'm guessing the big fucking dogs they threw in the cage with me were less dogs and more..." Jensen covers his face with his hands and makes a distressed sound. "Okay, no one say the W word. I don't know if I can deal with that right now."

"Jensen, look at me," Clay says slowly.

Jensen makes a small sound and keeps his head in his hands. 

"_Corporal Jensen!_" 

Jensen's head snaps up, and he meets Clay's eyes with his teeth bared. Clay doesn't falter, he just stares right back. 

"Jensen," Roque admonishes in a firm tone.

Jensen blinks, shaking his head like he's clearing away the remains of sleep before exhales, his posture relaxing minimally. 

"I'm too old for this shit," Clay mutters, looking over Jensen. Jensen flinches slightly but says nothing. 

"Poker night," Pooch says suddenly, and everyone jumps. "You were talking about going dark side. You knew this would happen, didn't you?"

"I knew something was wrong," Jensen admits, "I didn't think it would involve me turning into a..." he stills before darting up and grabbing his laptop from his bed. The rest of the room goes cautiously still. Jensen pauses and looks at the room, inhaling deeply. 

"Sorry. Look, I didn't mean to startle you, but if you could all maybe, try not to smell so scared it'd be a _big_ help." 

"Smell?" Roque asks in confusion.

Jensen shrugs, taps the side of his nose and sits back down, fingers flying across his keyboard. After several unpleasantly silent minutes Jensen sighs and closes the laptop. 

"So, turns out last night and the day I got busted out of Torture Land had something in common. I'll give you three guesses as to what the moon looked like."

"Full moon?" Pooch's voice is hesitant.

"Give the Pooch a prize! Now, guess what happens in twenty-nine more days?" Jensen scrubs his hands across his face, leaning back against the wall. "You know, I was really hoping I was going the Captain America route. Get shot up with a few drugs and then I'd be better, faster, stronger, and dating Tony Stark. But noooo, I straight up go the _Ginger Snaps_ route, only you know, minus the super creepy but hot sisters." Jensen's arms fall away from his face and he sighs. "My sister will _never_ let me see Beth now."

"Hold up," Clay says, standing. "You _knew_ something was going on?" 

"Yeah." Jensen swallows, still staring at the ceiling. "Little things started to not add up in a big way. It got harder to get drunk and stay drunk. I was healing faster than I normally did. I could _smell_ you guys, and even weirder, I knew _what_ I was smelling. And let me tell you something, there are things that can't be un-smelled." Jensen pauses, face turning red. "I may have also had an intense urge to... mark what I considered my territory."

"Please tell me you didn't pee on our bunks," Pooch groans. 

Jensen blinks and gives Pooch a tiny smile. "You're taking this well, if _that's_ what you're worried about in all of this." 

Pooch continues to glare. 

"No Pooch, I didn't pee on your bed."

Clay raises an eye brow. "Did you..." 

Jensen looks back up at the ceiling with an exaggerated sigh, his face red. "I said I had an _urge_ to mark my territory. I didn't say I actually did it, so drop it."

"I'm guessing the mood swings were part of this," Roque adds. 

Jensen nods. "It's like I have someone in my head doing system overrides without my permission. Trust me, if you were dealing with this - you'd be cranky too."

Clay nods to himself, turning to look out the small window of their bunk. "You noticed all this before last night?" 

"Yeah."

"And you didn't say anything to us. You didn't bother saying anything to _me_." Clay's voice is hard, and Jensen sits up looking hurt.

"It wasn't like that," Jensen insists, "I thought I was losing my _mind_. I guess maybe I didn't know what to do about this because my parents cheaped out and never got me the _My Body, Myself, for Werewolves_ book. You know, the one where they tell you all about how your balls will drop, how you grow hair down there, and how on the full moon hair starts growing _everywhere_. God knows I could have used the section that covers explaining to your special ops. team that you think you might be turning into something straight from the fucking _Twilight_ movies."

Clay's jaw clenches. "You didn't come to me."

"Would you have believed me?" Jensen asks in a quiet voice. "Seriously, what would you have done if I told you I didn't think I could get drunk and that I could smell it when you got that foot fungus last week."

"You used to trust us enough to come to me." 

"What do you want me to say to that, Clay?" Jensen snaps. "'Cause this whole thing is a lot worse than the time I lost my rifle. This isn't any shit you can cover with..." Jensen trails off, his face rapidly losing color.

"Jensen?" Pooch asks with a worried look.

Jensen glances over to Pooch before looking back at Clay with wild eyes. 

"What is it?" 

"Max," Jensen says softly.

The room seems to still as everyone tries to comprehend everything Jensen isn't saying.

"You think he knows..." Clay hazards motioning his hand towards Jensen as he speaks. Jensen nods dumbly.

"Oh god. He's probably gonna fucking _dissect_ me or do so some other twisted shit to me. He's gon-" 

Cougar stands up, moving on instinct. The motion draws Jensen's gaze, and he tracks Cougar with sharp movements of his head.

"Cougs?" Roque says hesitantly, "Maybe for now we should all ju-"

"It's okay, Roque," Jensen says without blinking. "It's okay," Jensen repeats as if to assure himself of his words.

Cougar slowly sits on the other side of Roque's bunk, keeping his movements deliberate.

"It's okay," Cougar repeats Jensen's words back to him. "You aren't alone."

"He's right," Clay says quietly. "And despite wanting to dropkick your dumb ass, I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

Jensen nods, resting his head in his hands as an uneasy silence falls.

"So does this mean we're all Team Jacob now? 'Cause if that's the case I need to burn my Team Edward shirts," Pooch says, deadpan.

Jensen's head snaps up, without the naked aggression, only a look of bewilderment. "Oh my god. Really, Pooch, _really?_"

Pooch frowns, looking put-upon. "Oh, I'm sorry, is that culturally insensitive?"

On the other side of the room Jensen's Tamagotchi starts beeping, saving Pooch from the devious glimmer in Jensen's eye.

\----

The thing about the Army, it that by signing up in the first place everyone basically forfeits the right right to say _Fuck you, I'm not doing this_. 

Sure, with the right connections and favors to call in, they could fall off the radar for while; but it's a whole different ball game when there's a mission with your team's name on it. There is no form to fill out stating that you need to respectfully turn down a mission because yesterday your tech developed a taste for howling at the moon. Even if there was, that's not really a form any of the Losers are comfortable filling out.

"It'll be fine," Jensen repeats for the nth time. "I'll be fine."

No one believes him, and from the looks of it, Jensen doesn't believe it himself.

\----

When they start gathering their gear, everyone watches out of the corner of their eyes as Jensen keeps finding reasons to brush against them. 

Jensen gives Pooch an overly long pat on his back as he rambles about improving battery life. He makes circuits of the room, always walking past Clay for no reason and pushing him out of his way. He awkwardly leans against Roque, who doesn't bother to hide his amused look. 

When he reaches up to adjust Cougar's hat, Jensen has officially lost any element of stealth he might have thought he possessed – and that's before he slides his wrist down Cougar's cheek. Cougar stills and watches in quiet amusement as Jensen jumps, ears turning pink after Roque pointedly clears his throat.

"So is this..." Pooch trails off, looking unsure of himself.

"Are you marking us?" Roque asks bluntly. "Is this some kinda wolf shit? 'Cause you're reminding me of my Nana's cat right now."

Cougar can almost see Jensen bristling.

"Are you putting your sme-"

"_Roque_," Clay interrupts, but it's too late, Jensen's already turning towards Roque.

"Fuck y-"

"I didn't mean it like _that_," Roque interrupts Jensen, his hand raised apologetically. "You gotta admit, you don't normally go around rubbing your arms all over us. I'm just trying to figure out what this _is_."

Jensen glowers at the wall over Roque's shoulder but he says nothing.

"Jensen," Roque calls. "Jensen, come on, man. Do I look like I give a shit about this?"

"It's _weird._ I know it is," Jensen says quietly.

"Yeah, it is. But you're also apparently a werewolf now, so weird is becoming pretty fucking relative around here. And this, this arm thing you're doin', it's not even close to the weirdest thing I've seen from you this week."

Clay shoots Roque a disapproving glare before focusing on Jensen. "This is a... territorial thing, yes?"

Jensen raises one shoulder, still not meeting anyone's gaze.

"Right. Well, if you it calms you down, short of you wanting to piss on us, I think we're all okay with it," Pooch throw in with a cautious smile. 

Clay nods. "We'll do what we can to help, but you need to let us know what's going on. This is as new to us as it is to you."

Jensen's shoulders slump as he moves to sit on one of their folding chairs, resting his head in his hands. Clay follows with a hand outstretched towards Jensen's shoulder, when Jensen's voice stops him in his tracks.

"Don't," he whispers. "Please. Right now, I'm not sure what will happen if you do that."

Clay retracts his arm, stepping back slowly. "I need you to talk to me, Jensen. What's going on?"

"Right now? I'm trying to ignore a really, _really_ intense urge to tear you all to pieces."

"Oh," Clay says quietly, body tensing.

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"What can we do to help?"

Jensen sighs, rolling his head to stare up at Clay with shockingly yellow eyes. The whole room holds its breath and Cougar feels the hairs on the back of his neck raise. 

There's little-to-no Jensen left in those eyes. Just something barely contained and itching for freedom.

"Well." Jensen leans back with an eerie calm, his eyes moving over them one by one. "You could all stop smelling like prey. And if you're _really_ feeling generous you could get my bitch of a sister to pick up the fucking phone." 

Jensen blinks and blue eyes return, but they're still painfully wrong - angry hurricanes instead of Jensen's calm skies. 

"Yeah. If you could pull that off, that'd be _super_." 

Cougar feels a tremor go up his spine, and he watches, somewhere between fear and fascination as Jensen's nostrils flare briefly before his hurricane eyes fix on him.

"_Really_ not helping, Cougs," Jensen rumbles. 

Clay's eyes drift towards Cougar in a question Cougar refuses to answer.

"Jensen," Pooch coaxes softly. "Can I try something?"

"Depends."

Pooch nods, slowly lifting his hands and holding them open. "How 'bout you let the Pooch hug you?" Pooch smiles, wincing at his own words. "In an incredibly manly way. In fact, let's not even call it a hug. Lets all pretend it's an advanced grappling move I want to show you."

Jensen raises an eyebrow but he says nothing.

"Come on," Pooch urges. "You've been sniffing us-"

"Scenting," Jensen corrects with a frown. "Sniffing sounds perverted. Like those panty vending machines in Japan."

"Fine. You've been _scenting_ us and it seems to calm you down. So why not get yourself a dose of Eau de Pooch and pretend we're thinking about football and very macho fighting moves?"

"Both of those things are _super_ homoerotic. And lame." 

"You're a werewolf, Jensen. You're not really at a place in your life where you can go around judging others."

\----

They do their best to huddle around Jensen when he gives in and wraps himself around Pooch.

Jensen stays strangely silent the whole time, breathing deeply and grasping at Cougar's shirt with one hand while the other holds a bundle of fabric from Roque and Clay's. 

For the most part Clay looks the most bewildered, patting at Jensen's back while Roque keeps up a steady stream of soft-spoken mockery. Cougar lets himself lean his head against Jensen's shoulder, matching his breathing with Jensen's. 

It takes almost half an hour, but with Jensen's face buried in the crook of Pooch's neck he manages to quiet his hurricane eyes into something decidedly more human.

He eventually pulls away, his ears pink.

"We're never talking about this again, right? 'Cause, you realize, if you talk about this you won't be able to use words like 'werewolf' as an excuse without men in white coats coming to take you away."

Roque smirks. 

Jensen rolls his eyes. "No, scratch that. Roque, I _encourage_ you to figure out a way to explain to people on base about your hour long group hug with four other men."

\----

"If you get like that while we're gone I want you do what ever you have to to get away from others," Clay says as he hefts his pack.

"Right. Got it. Avoid people because I am a menace to society." Jensen pauses, tilting his head. "Huh. Do you think I can... _change_ outside of the full moon?"

Clay sighs, pinching the bridge of this nose. "Do me a favor and try not to find out until we get back."

"Or ever," Roque adds helpfully. "It'd be nice if you could just stop being a werewolf."

"I will as soon as you promise to stop filling my iPod with your Glee songs." 

"I saw the end of one episode!" Roque growls as he shoves two magazines into his vest's pouches. "One episode! It was already on when I came into the rec room!"

Jensen turns to Pooch with a fondly exasperated look. 

"I don't believe him either, J, but now's not the time." Pooch clasps Jensen on the back. "So just avoid people. And this means you have to resist any urge you get to argue with people on the internet, yeah? I want to see a human shaped Jensen when we get back."

Jensen mutters under his breath but allows himself to be pulled in for one last hug.

"People will talk if they see that shit," Roque says with a grin.

"Let them," Jensen says, placing a noisy kiss on Pooch's cheek. "They need to stop treating open affection between men like it's something taboo." 

Pooch pushes Jensen away, scrubbing at his cheek. "_Clay!_ Jensen gave me wolf cooties!"

"Did not!"

Clay sighs heavily, "You're all an embarrassment to me."

\----

Jensen frowns, fidgeting to the point, he looks ready to jump out of his skin as they load into the Humvee. Cougar squeezes his shoulder before piling in. He doesn't miss the way Jensen watches them, touching them at any opportunity he can find.

When the last door is closed, Clay sighs and leans over Pooch to motion Jensen forward. 

"We'll be back," Clay promises. "And you'll try to stay out of trouble, right?"

Jensen laughs, eyes wide and scared. "Yeah. What could possibly go wrong?"

\----

Their target is a woman. Aisha al-Fadhil: terrorist, information broker to the highest bidder, and general pain the ass to Uncle Sam.

It's a simple enough mission, check out the locations on their grocery list of suspected hide outs and do their best to bring her in alive.

None of them expect to find her sitting calmly inside the first location, watching them and their weapons with disinterest.

They _really_ don't expect the her eyes flash yellow.

"_Jesus,_" Pooch mutters, adjusting his M4. "Colonel, di-"

"I saw," Clay cuts him off.

Aisha frowns, leaning forward as her nostrils flare. "You all smell like wolf." Blinking, Aisha stands, making her way slowly towards them. "He lived. He _turned_." Her voice wavers as she leans into Cougar's space, nostrils flaring and eyes flashing yellow again.

Cougar meets Clay's eyes, nodding once, before stilling. Aisha pulls back and gives him an unimpressed look before turning to scent at the air near Clay, ignoring or uncaring of the weapons tracking her movement.

"Where is your wolf?"

"I don't know wh-"

Aisha gives Clay a pointed look.

"Look lady, unless you're willing to start tal-"

Her lips curl back in disgust. "This is Max's work, isn't it? He gets his answers on me and you leave behind easy prey for him to catch and cage."

Clay frowns, opening his mouth to speak, but Aisha is already turning and running towards the window. She leaps and it shatters just as Clay slaps down Roque's raised weapon. 

Framed by shards of broken glass a wolf takes off running to the west.

Cougar hefts his rifle and easily leads the sandy colored woma- wolf. "Colonel?"

"Hold your fire."

\----

There's no sign of Jensen when they get back.

"He's gone." Roque is the first to say it out loud.

"So are we thinking Jensen went wolfy and ran off? Or are we thinking Aisha or Max took him?" Pooch asks with a tight face. "Either way I'm kicking his furry ass."

Cougar kneels to peek down under the bottom bunk, pulling out a holstered M9. "He left his side arm but took his laptop."

Clay curses.

"So Jensen left on his own, then." Just as Pooch finishes speaking their door swings open. Max strolls in confidently with Wade at his back. Wade cocks his head once their inside the room, nodding at Max, who hums in response before smiling at Clay.

"So, am I to understand that not only did you fail your mission, but you've also misplaced an injured man?"

Clay moves to the front of the group, crossing his arms. "You can read our mission reports. It's all in there."

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't believe everything I read. Wikipedia has made me such a _jaded_ man."

"Are you questioning my report?"

"In an official capacity? No. I wouldn't dream of it."

"Unofficially?"

"What I do, unofficially, is above the pay grade of this whole godforsaken country." Max makes a thoughtful noise. "Have you reported Jameson as AWOL yet?"

"Jensen," Roque growls. "His name is _Jensen_."

Max scrunches up his face. "Names are so _boring_, everyone running around with theirs thinking it's so special and expecting me to remember it." Max shudders. "How _greedy_." Max moves forward to run a gloved finger over the edge of the card table. "But it makes you wonder, doesn't it." Max muses, "Jameson going AWOL, that is. Do you think he snapped, or you think after spending so long as a captive he-"

"If you have something relevant to say, say it. If not, get out,"Clay growls.

Behind Max, Wade glances up, watching Clay with blank eyes.

_Wolf._ Cougar's mind whispers. Next to him Pooch seems to have drawn the same conclusion, straightening his posture as his hand falls in a feigned casual motion to his sidearm. Next to Clay, Roque casually slips his hands into his pockets.

"Relevant? Hmmm." Max grins widely. "No. I suppose I don't. I guess that's all for tonight, Colonel." Max moves for the door, Wade on his heels. "Try not to misplace any more men. It seems to becoming quite the _habit_ with you."

The door closes quietly behind them.

"Shit," Clay mutters, shaking his head. In a rare show of violence Clay lurches forward, slamming his fist into the wall. The whole room watches as Clay cradles his hand. "_Shit._"

"This isn't your fau-"

"Roque," Clay warns.

"Fine. Then what do we do, _sir_?"

Clay's jaw clenches. "Well. We're gonna tear this room apart for clues, and then we.... I don't know, research this shit. Obviously, Jensen's recent _behavior_ is not as... _unique_ as we had previously thought."

\----

By sundown they're sure of only three things.

The first thing they're sure of is that Jensen is gone. Under Clay's pillow they find two cards laying upside down: A joker with round glasses drawn on its face and the king of spades. A cheerful string of beeps lead to them discovering Jensen's Tamagotchi squirreled away inside of Cougar's cleaning kit.

It takes the combined efforts of Roque, Pooch, and Cougar pressing buttons randomly to shut it up. 

Clay sighs, rubbing at his eyes before throwing the cards on the table in front of him. "I'm gonna shoot him with his own gun." 

The second thing they're sure of is that other things have disappeared with Jensen. Roque's favorite sheath is missing from his footlocker, but the knife is still there. Pooch's pack of cards is missing from his jacket pocket. Clay's Zippo is not where he left it. Cougar's pillow is missing its case.

"So," Pooch says slowly. "A lighter, a sheath, a pack of cards, and a pillow case. That's weird right? Like, weird for even Jensen?"

"It's pretty weird," Roque agrees, flipping and catching his knife in manner that makes Clay move to another chair.

"Maybe it's a clue?" Clay says with a frown. "Maybe it means-" 

"Oh, it means something," Roque growls. "It means when I find that little shit I'm-"

"Scent," Cougar says as the connection pops into his head, drawing the room's attention. "Things we keep close or used often."

"Well, that's sweet, but I'm still gonna skin him and make myself a werewolf coat," Roque snaps. 

The last thing they're sure of is that looking up information on werewolves online in any serious capacity requires lots of beer and patience. 

Well, beer _and_ Pooch. After Clay spends the first half an hour cursing creatively at Jensen's back-up laptop it's in everyone's best interest to let Pooch be the middle man between Clay and Google.

\----

The Tamagotchi is a pain in the ass. The third time it starts crying for attention the entire room stops squinting at the screen and watches as Cougar manages to feed and clean up after it.

Clay opens his mouth to say something twice, but eventually shrugs and pesters Pooch to click on one of the links.

"He loves that stupid thing," Roque says quietly when Clay starts yelling at the screen while Pooch yells at him. "If you make sure it doesn't wake me up at night I'll help you with it during the day."

Cougar looks over at Roque who's pretending to watch Pooch holding the laptop out of Clay's reach.

\----

Jensen's belongings are packed up and inventoried within twelve hours. There isn't much to box up; three uniforms, spare boots, and a Rubix cube are all that Jensen owns on base. 

By breakfast the next morning the AWOL Apprehension guys pull each of them aside to talk to.

"He went through a traumatic event," the MP tells Cougar while handing him a cup of lukewarm coffee. "What we're worried about right now isn't so much desertion as much as we're worried he might be a danger to himself. Or others."

Cougar says nothing, spinning the Styrofoam cup in his hands while the woman sizes him up.

"Has he said anything? Done anything that might lead you to suspect where he's gone? It doesn't have to be-"

"No."

The MP pauses, taking a drink from her own cup. "I'm not gonna get much out of you, am I, Alvarez?"

Cougar looks up, and raises an eyebrow.

"Right." She sighs. "I get it, you know. And I know it sounds like I'm feeding you a line, but I wouldn't want to talk either if it was someone I served with. But, in a situation like this, even if I didn't like it- I'd talk. There's a very _real_ possibility Corporal Jensen isn't in the right state of mind right now. And from some of the things we're hearing from various people on base, maybe he hasn't been himself since he got back." She pauses, watching Cougar carefully. "If he needs help, we can get him help. We can get him th-"

"I know nothing."

The MP purses her lips. "Would you tell me if you did?"

"Depends."

"Well. You know as well as I do that running around the ass end of Afghanistan wearing a uniform isn't going to do him any favors. You decide you know something, do your buddy a favor and t-"

Cougar's pocket starts a merry chorus of beeping.Cougar starts and the MP looks at him questioningly. He quickly pulls the tiny yellow toy out of his pocket, waving it in front of her before observing the tiny pixel creature throw a tantrum.

"Is that... is that a Tamagotchi?"

Cougar ignores her in favor of trying to remember how to make the damned thing happy. He pokes ineffectively at the buttons until the MP laughs.

"Give it here. I had one of these. When I was _fourteen_."

Cougar begrudgingly looks from the angry creature and back before handing it over. She quickly presses two buttons and the chimes stop.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't really seem like a guy who carries around a Tamagotchi."

Cougar shrugs. "It passes the time."

"Right," The MP drawls, "and you just happen to not have any clue how it works."

Cougar holds out his hand expectantly and she hands the toy over with a smirk.

"You know... There was a write up in the Corporal's file from a week ago. Apparently he decided some electronic toy was more important than saluting a superior officer." She watches Cougar with calculating eyes. "But, I'm sure that that's a coincidence, as all his belongings were to be turned over as per Article 86."

Cougar meets her gaze, calmly pocketing the Tamagotchi.

The MP smiles, and there's a softness around her eyes. "Just a coincidence, then. Who knows how many of these things are floating around on base. Could be one, could be two." She stands, motioning him to the door. "You know how to find me if you remember anything. Or if you can't figure out your little friend."

\----

On the third day Max and Wade show up just long enough to inform them Jensen's information has been forwarded to the NCIC and law enforcement agencies. 

Clay hits the wall for the second time, staring off into space while Roque wraps his hand.

"In seven days his sister's gonna get a letter," Clay says in a rough voice.

"Nothing we can do about that right now," Roque points out. "And breaking your damn hand won't help any."

"I just..." Clay trails off. "I feel useless."

Cougar understands the feeling.

\----

It's a Sunday, and Cougar is nodding his thanks to the chaplain when he catches a glimpse of blonde hair and hurricane eyes out of the corner of his eye. His body moves before his mind even registers it wants to turn, to look, to see – 

Nothing. There's nothing there. 

There's a chime from his pocket, and when Cougar pulls out the toy his reptile brain tells him he's being watched.

He pretends to ignores it and walks calmly to where Clay is likely to be.

\----

"You... felt something?"

Cougar nods and Clay runs a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth under Roque's watchful eyes.

"Are you sure the person you saw was him?"

"Blond. Wolf eyes."

Clay nods to himself before turning to Pooch and Roque with a raised brow.

"I didn't see him, but my sixth sense thought someone was watching the Pooch during chow."

Roque shrugs, "I always feel paranoid."

Clay nods, staring back into space. "Everyone change shirts and leave your old ones on the table."

"Sir?" Pooch asks with a confused look.

"We're going to leave out some Jensen bait. If it's him we'll know by morning." Clay moves to his foot locker, opening it up and digging around before coming up with a piece of paper and a pen. "And it will give me a chance to chew him out for being an idiot and running and for being sloppy enough to get caught."

That night they set a bag of worn shirts, a note, and a Tamagotchi outside their door. By morning it's gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Was previously posted, then taken down. Now it's back up. Beware the errors and typos, I suspect the files I found on my old hard drive are the pre-beta versions.  
Please don't steal any of my silly stories and change some names around and then try to sell them as books on Amazon or I'm gonna have to take everything down again.


End file.
